


A Little Bit More

by WritingToKeepMySanity



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Christmas fic year 2 GET LIT, F/M, Gen, Gingerbread House Building, Hanukkah, Kids growing up, M/M, all the cute Christmas tropes, playing Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-26 15:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 31,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16684297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/pseuds/WritingToKeepMySanity
Summary: He puzzled and puzzled 'til his puzzler was sore.Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.While Spot and Race try to give Brooklyn the best possible Christmas ever, Jack and Katherine learn to handle a non-believing child at home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot learns a heartbreaking truth about his foster daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy December all!!! I am pleased to finally unveil: Newsies Christmas fic: Round 2 ;) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!! ❤️

Spot unlocked the door to the Kelly’s apartment, only to be immediately shot by half a dozen Nerf bullets.

“Whoa, hold ya fire!” Jack popped up over the back of the couch. “It’s Uncle Sean!”

“Uncle _Seaaaaannn_!” Lucy slid across the floor in her socks so she was standing in front of him. Lifting her Nerf gun, she shot him in the stomach. “I gotcha!”

Holding a hand to his stomach, Spot took a step back and leaned against the door. “Oh no,” he deadpanned. “Ya got me.”

Cackling, she ran down the hallway, Corey chasing after her.

Straightening, he laughed a little as he watched them run off. “There’s two, what happened to the other two?”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, tossing his Nerf weapon on the couch. “Uh, Pete’s in his room—he ain’t been actin’ right, not sure what’s goin’ on—an’ Brooklyn’s…” He turned a slow circle in the middle of the living room before calling down the hallway. “Lucy, baby, Brooklyn in ya room wit’ ya?”

There was a pause, before Lucy yelled back, giggling, “No!”

“Luce, it’s time for Brooklyn ta go home with Uncle Sean, can ya help her get her stuff together?”

“We don’t know where Brooklyn is!” Corey yelled, laughing.

Jack gave Spot a slightly exasperated look. “Well maybe me an’ Uncle Sean should come down there an’—”

“Nononono, we found her!” Lucy shrieked, and a moment later she was dragging Brooklyn down the hallway.

“Hi, Sean.”

Spot smiled at her. “Hey, hon, gotcha backpack?”

“She does!” Lucy said excitedly.

“Lucy, what did we say ‘bout talkin’ f’r others?” Jack reminded her gently.

She wrinkled her nose a little. “Sorry Brooklyn.”

Brooklyn shrugged. “It’s okay.”

Lucy threw her arms around Brooklyn, who took it in stride, hugging her back. “See ya tomorrow at Uncle Davey’s, Brooklyn!” she said before skipping down the hallway.

Jack opened the front closet to pull out Brooklyn’s coat for her and helping her shrug into it. “Aight, see ya then, Brooke.” Brooklyn stared up at him, vaguely disgusted. “Nah? Don’t like that?” She shook her head. “S’alright, we’ll come up with somethin’.”

Shaking his head, Spot said, “Thanks f’r watchin’ her, Jackie. With Race Upstate and me havin’ to go inta work—”

Jack waved a hand. “S’no problem, Spotty, she’s great.”

Spot grinned a little. “Ain’t she though?”

Closing the door behind them, Jack turned to call back down the hallway. “Alright, who’s helpin’ me clean up the livin’ room ‘fore Mama gets home?”

He was met with shrieking giggles and loud shushing from the vicinity of Lucy’s room, and he rolled his eyes fondly as he went to wrangle his two youngest.

Out by the car, Spot helped Brooklyn climb into her booster seat and get buckled in. “Didja have fun with Pete an’ Corey an’ Lucy?”

She nodded, drumming her feet a little against the seat. “Yeah! Me an’ Corey an’ Lucy played Legos an’ Nerf guns, an’ that was fun.”

“Yeah?” She nodded again, and he smiled. “That’s great, Brooklyn, ‘m glad ya had a good time.”

Brooklyn traced her fingers along the arm of her booster seat, and Spot sighed a little, closing the door and sliding back behind the wheel.

They’d had Brooklyn for six weeks now, and it was... amazing. Already, it was two weeks longer than the last kid they fostered, and Brooklyn was the sweetest little girl he’d ever met. There was just… some awkwardness, still, trying to get her to open up.

It was like looking in a mirror to the past—at only five for just shy of two months, she already had her guard up, the same guard he kept up for nineteen years before he even thought about letting it slip.

He couldn’t stand the thought of this little girl staying like that.

So he and Race did their best to respect her boundaries while trying to get her to open up as well. It was like pulling teeth some days—a fact Race assures Spot was true for him, too—but they’d made some progress.

“Ya excited f’r Christmas? S’comin’ up in a few weeks.” He glanced back at Brooklyn in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” she said a little hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure.

Spot tried again. “What’s ya favorite part’a Christmas?”

She shrugged. “I dunno."

“Ya like… the snow, or decoratin’ the tree, or bakin’…”

“Decorate a _tree_?” Brooklyn giggled. “Why?”

He made a face at her. “What, ya never decorated a Christmas tree?”

“What’s a Christmas tree look like? Oh!” Her eyes went wide, even as he felt his heart sink a little. “Is it like one’a those droopy ones in the park? The one’s Kath’rine says’re sad?”

Spot carefully eased his car into the other lane before saying, “No, that’s a Weepin’ Willow. Ya take a Christmas tree an’ decorate inside.”

“But it’s too big, right? How does it grow inside?”

The rest of the drive home was full of questions from Brooklyn, everything from Christmas trees—“A tree made’a _plastic_?”—to Santa—“But what if they don’t gotta chim-uh-ney, like you an’ Tony?”—to reindeer—“His nose does _what_?”

It was the most he’d heard her talk in one sitting without Lucy around, and all it did was confirm his suspicions about her hesitant response to his question about whether or not she was excited for Christmas.

Brooklyn Hunnicutt hadn’t ever had a real Christmas.

She held his hand up to the apartment, little brow furrowed in thought. Unlocking the door, Spot let her go in first, where she kicked off her shoes next to his by the door. Miss Cuddlekinz trotted over to greet them, butting her head against Brooklyn’s knee.

“Ra—Tony? Ya home?” Spot called, shrugging out of his coat.

As he was hanging up their coats, Race rounded the corner. “Hey Brooklyn! Ya have fun with ya friends today?”

“Hi Tony,” Brooklyn said, ignoring his question as she tilted her head back to look up at him. “Did you know reindeer can fly?” she asked seriously.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, I’s heard that. They fly so’s Santa can get ‘round the world an’ take presents ta all the kids.”

She cocked her head. “Does _everyone_ know that?”

“Lots’a people do, yeah.”

“Huh. Okay,” she said, wandering past him to go down the hallway, Miss C following after her.

Race watched her go to her room, bemused. “What was that about?” he asked, sliding an arm around Spot’s shoulders, pecking his lips.

Spot shook his head. “We gots a _lotta_ work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that this is before Brooklyn is adopted, so her birth last name is being used, Hunnicutt.
> 
> *
> 
> I was thinking about last year's Christmas fic and decided that 25 independent oneshots was just _too_ easy, so I thought "how do I up the ante?"
> 
>  _Ah,_ I thought.
> 
> One story. 
> 
> 25 chapters.
> 
> That'll do it.
> 
> So here we are!! Spent most of November plotting and writing and planning and... now it's out!! I've had fun with this story, I missed the kids so much, it was fun bringing them back, and I hope you enjoy!!! I'd love to know your thoughts!!
> 
> xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey didn't know the day with his nieces and nephews would include an interrogation and a five-year-old sassing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy first day of Hanukkah to all who celebrate!!!

“…and we just roll it in a ball like this, and flatten it a little like… that.” Davey demonstrated. “And then we’ll just fry ‘em up! Pretty easy, right?”

“Yeah!” Lucy said excitedly, smashing her _latke_ between her hands, potato splattering on the table.

“Gentle, Luce,” Davey laughed. “We wanna have enough to cook and eat, don’t we?”

She grinned a little sheepishly. “Oh yeah.”

He had Pete, Corey, Lucy, and—surprisingly—Brooklyn for the afternoon. He’d been watching the Kellys since Pete was three or four, so Jack and Katherine could Christmas shop. At some point, it’d shifted so he was watching them on the first day of Hanukkah. After assuring them it was fine, as long as he made it to his parents’ for dinner, it’d become a kind-of tradition.

This year, Davey had extended the invitation to Spot and Race, not expecting much from it—he’d only met Brooklyn a handful of times and they didn’t want to overwhelm her with the amount of people she met—but they’d thought it’d be good for her to join in.

“Hey, that looks pretty good, Brooklyn,” he said, leaning over to inspect her work. “Have you made _latkes_ before?”

She shrugged, looking a little shy at the attention.

“Thought they were called ‘tato pancakes?” Corey asked, carefully smushing his _latke_ flat.

Davey nodded a little. “Well, they can be called both. Sometimes it’s just easier to say potato pancake than _latke_.”

“Oh!” Brooklyn’s eyes lit up a little in recognition.

“Recognize that, Brooklyn?”

“Yeah, I made ‘em in the last house I stayed in. For the dinner.”

 _The dinner_? “Was that… Passover dinner?” he asked. His family didn't make  _latkes_ for Passover typically, but if he remembered right, the Wellerstein's down the hall when they were growing up did. It wasn't too unusual.

Brooklyn nodded. “Uh-huh. Got burnt.”

“Oh, yeah? Were they too hot when you tried to eat them?”

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head. “Got too close to the pan.”

 _Who let the_ four-year-old _near the stove?_ Davey shook his head a little. “Well, you don’t have to worry ‘bout that today, because Pete’s gonna show you how to play the dreidel game while I cook these okay? Pete, ya remember how to play?”

Shifting in his seat, Pete shook his head. “I don’t wanna play, Uncle Davey. Can I go read my book instead?”

Moving the plate of _latkes_ to the counter by the stove, Davey looked back over his shoulder. “Ya sure, Pete?”

“Yeah.” Without another word, Pete climbed out of his chair and went into living room to dig his book out of his backpack.

“Okay, kid. Corey, you remember how ta play?”

“Yeah!” Corey crashed his chair back on all four legs. “Where’s the chocolate money, Uncle Davey?”

“There’s _chocolate money_?” Brooklyn asked Lucy, wide-eyed.

She nodded excitedly. “Yeah! But _don’t_ eat it yet. That’s after the game," Lucy said seriously, and Brooklyn nodded, equally solemn.

“Remember what the money’s called, Corey?” Davey asked, setting the candy and dreidel on the table.

“Uhm… no.” He shook his head, already spinning the dreidel.

“ _Gelts_.”

“Oh yeah! _Gelts_!”

After settling the three youngest with the game and checking on Pete, Davey started frying up the _latkes_ , half-listening to Corey explain the game to Lucy and Brooklyn, helping Corey as he attempted the Yiddish.

“Uncle Davey, who’s Chai-yuh?” Corey asked carefully.

Davey furrowed his brow a little, flipping one of the _latkes_. “Where are ya seeing that, Corey?”

“The girl on your phone,” he said, holding Davey’s phone, which was buzzing in his hands.

“Lemme see!” Lucy cried, snatching the phone away before Davey could say anything. “Oooh, Uncle Davey she’s pretty! Look, Brooklyn! …Oops.”

Davey turned around in time to see the screen go from Chaya’s contact picture to the call screen.

“…Hello?” Lucy said, holding the phone to her ear. “Are you Uncle Davey’s girlfriend?”

Dropping the skillet, Davey rushed over to the table. “Okay! Lucy, honey, let me have the phone, okay?”

“I have to go, I have to give Uncle Davey his phone back. Bye!” Lucy chirped as Brooklyn giggled next to her. She handed the phone to him.

“Hey, sorry, I’m watching my nieces and nephews. They’re… imaginative.”

“ _That’s fine_ ,” Chaya laughed. “ _If I had to guess, I’d say… Lucy? She’s the youngest, right?_ ”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, good memory. She takes after Jack—you’ll see. I mean, if you ever meet him. Not that you—have to. Meet him.” He winced, rubbing his nose.

Davey hated to say anything juvenile or something that his students would say, but there was something about the new librarian at the school that just…

Well, it wasn’t exactly hard to invite her over for dinner his family had each year on the first night of Hanukkah, that’s all he cared to say.

(If he was saying anything to anyone at all, of course)

“Anyways, sorry about… her. What’s up?”

“ _I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else I could bring to dinner._ ”

“…Else? We’ll have plenty of food, don’t worry about bringing anything—”

She chuckled a little over the phone. “ _That would be rude, David, I’m not showing up empty-handed. I already have the_ loukoumades _made, anyways. Can I bring anything else?_ ’

Davey shook his head, smiling a little. “No, that would be great, I promise.”

“ _And you’re sure I’m not imposing in any way?_ ”

“Of course it’s fine. When I told them you couldn’t make it home to see your dad and sister and they insisted I invite you. Fair warning, though, Sarah’s a bit of a flirt… So’s Les,” he added after a thought. “And Mom’s a hugger. So y’know, I don’t blame you if you change your mind—”

“ _No, it actually sounds… fun._ ” He wasn’t sure, but Davey could almost swear he could hear her smile—that little, pleased, half-smile she almost always covered up, like she didn’t want anyone to see.

Bored with listening to Uncle Davey’s conversation, Corey found a paper and pen and carefully wrote “Chaya” (after a couple tries to remember the spelling).

~~_Cahya_ ~~

~~_Chaay_ ~~

_Chaya_

Leaving Brooklyn and Lucy at the table, spinning the deidel, he went into the living room, setting the paper in front of Pete’s book.

“What’s that word?” he asked. “D’ya say it like Chai-yuh?”

Pete shrugged. “I dunno. C-H makes a ‘K-‘ sound, too, maybe it’s Kay-uh. Or Kai-uh. Ask Uncle Davey.”

Corey scrunched up his nose. “‘Kay.”

He wandered back into the kitchen in time to hear say “So I’ll see you tonight? Great, okay, bye.”

“Uncle Davey!” Corey ran up to him with his paper. Holding it up to him, he asked, “How d’ya say that? Is it like Chai-yuh, or Kay-uh?”

“It’s actually more of an ‘H’ sound—Hiya.” Davey exaggerated ‘ _hk_ ’ sound in the back of his throat so they could hear it.

“ _Hiiiiiii-_ ya,” Corey said slowly. “Like sayin’ hi ta someone!”

“Yeah, kinda,” Davey laughed. Close enough for an eight-year-old who didn't speak the language.

“Who is she?” Brooklyn asked, twisting around in her chair.

“She’s a librarian at my school,” Davey explained. “We’re… friends.”

“You better kiss that girl an’ marry her ‘fore sooner or later,” Lucy said, tossing her little ponytail.

Davey gave her a shocked look. “And just where did you hear that?”

She shrugged. “That’s why my daddy said.”

“Well, your daddy's a dead man. Now,” he changed the subject quickly, bringing the plate of _latkes_ to the table. “Who’s ready to eat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out to Claire for not only allowing me to steal Chaya, but for being patient and walking me through the actual pronunciation of Chaya because, like Corey, I was saying it phonetically for the _longest_ time. If you're still confused, just ask and I can try and explain it better!!! 
> 
> I'd love to know your thoughts!!
> 
> xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot gets some advice from Jack

“Hey, Jackie, thanks f’r meetin’ me.” Spot clapped Jack’s shoulder as he sat across from him at the coffeeshop.

“Yeah, no problem.” Jack pushed a cup towards him. “Gotcha coffee.”

Spot picked up the cup, giving him and incredulous look. “Are ya kiddin’? This’s like half whip cream. Didja even order _coffee_?”

Jack raised his hands in defense. “Ya _welcome_. I looked like an idiot orderin’ that shit for ya.”

“Ya mean bigger’n usual?” he smirked, taking a sip of his coffee—if nothing else, to prove to Jack he could, and would, drink it.

Rolling his eyes, Jack changed the subject. “So, what’s up, Spotty? Everythin’ okay? Racer an’ Brooklyn good?”

“Yeah, no, they’re fine. But… Brooklyn’s kinda what I wanna ask about.”

Jack raise his eyebrows. “Oh, ya need parentin’ tips from the master?” he joked.

Spot rolled his eyes. “If I wanted that, I woulda talked ta Medda—raisin’ you all those years? She can do anythin’.”

“That's... fair, actually,” Jack conceded. "So whatcha need?"

“We found out the other day she ain’t never really had Christmas before. Don’t even know what a Christmas tree is, or Santa or anythin’.”

“Wow, really?” Despite the question, Jack didn’t really look all that surprised. They’d both done their time in foster care—Spot more than Jack—there wasn’t always enough to just get food on the table, let alone go all out for holidays.

He shrugged. “I mean… Makes sense, from what Stephanie told us—oh, she's Brooklyn's caseworker—she was taken from her mom when she was year, year an’ a half, and been in an’ out foster homes ever since, who knows what went on there, so… Me an’ Racer wanna make it a real good Christmas f’r her. Best, if possible, in case she… Well.”

Spot didn’t want to want to go into what-if scenarios—he didn’t care for the ache in his chest it caused, but Jack seemed to understand.

“Yeah, no I getcha. Whaddaya need from us?”

Spot sighed internally, relieved. Jackie’s unquestionable loyalty could be grating sometimes, but right now he was glad he could rely on it. “I dunno… what d’you an’ Kath do with ya kids?”

“What _don’t_ we do’s a better question,” Jack laughed a little. “Uh, the apartment’s been decorated since afta’ Thanksgivin’—‘cept the tree, we’s gettin’ that later this week—Medda’s big dinner thing, sleddin’ in Central Park when it snows, the gingerbread house contest at Al’s, the kids like ta sleep under the tree at least once…”

He trailed off a little, thinking, and Spot asked, “What about, uh—Santa. Ya do Santa… shit?”

“Oh yeah," Jack nodded. "We go all out with Santa. We do the cookies, milk, carrots for the reindeer—last year Kath started puttin’ fake footprints by the door an’ the tree, make it look like he’d been there.”

“What ‘bout…” Spot tried to remember what all he and Race had looked up in the last couple nights—there’d been so much to take in, that’s why he asked Jack in the first place. “That elf… thing? Where he watches the kids or—”

“Oh, god no. Elf on the Shelf? Never. That thing’s _creepy_. Kath an’ I thought ‘bout it f’r about two seconds when Pete was gettin’ old enough, we couldn’t do it.”

“Thank _god_.” Spot muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. That’d one hadn’t made any sense to him, and he’d been hoping it wasn’t some crucial tradition. “Can I—? One more question.” he winced a little.

“Shoot.”

Gripping his cup between his hands to keep from fidgeting, Spot hesitated. This wasn’t a Christmas question, and he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “When, d’ya think, it’ll start feelin’… I dunno, real?”

“What feel real?” Jack asked, taking a long drink of his coffee.

“The whole…” Spot waved a hand, trying to come up with the right words. “Family thing, or whatever. You an’ Kathy make it look easy.”

Jack barked a laugh. “S’a good one, I’ll have to tell Kath. Trust me, Spot, our kids ain’t always a walk in the park—an’ they didn’t come with their own baggage, like Brooklyn did. We had ta screw ‘em up all on our own. Don’t’cha remember bein’ in foster care? Took awhile ta get used ta bein’ in new places.”

“Yeah, but ‘round thirteen, I stopped gettin’ comf’table ‘cause I knew it wasn’t gonna stick. An’ I don’t want that for Brooklyn. I want…”

Jack tilted his head a little at him. “Want what, Sean?”

Spot shrugged. He knew what he really wanted, but he hadn’t said it aloud, not to himself, not to Race, almost like if he said the words, he’d jinx it all. “I just… want her ta have a real good Christmas, is all.”

Narrowing his eyes at him a bit, Jack looked like he would say something, but changed his mind. “Well, me an’ Kath are happy to help. Oh, note of advice, don’t scar ya kid like ya did ours an’ show her _Die Hard_.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna have ta sit through that fuckin’ Rudolph movie again, aren’t I?” Spot groaned.

“Welcome to bein’ a dad, Spotty,” Jack laughed, roasting him with his cup.

 

~*~

 

It wasn’t until Spot was back in his office, staring blankly at his computer screen, that Jack’s words hit him.

_“…don’t scar ya kid…”_

_“Welcome to bein’ a dad…”_

_Dad_.

A little smile broke through before he pushed it away, covering his mouth slightly with his hand, and shaking his head a little, Spot went back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone worried ~~(looking at you, Claire;) )~~ , Katherine does show up next chapter!! I didn't realize it until I started posting, but Katherine just. Didn't show up in the first three chapters, but she WILL be here tomorrow!!
> 
> For some background that no one asked for, Medda knew Jack's parents before he was even born and was named his godmother and the one to take Jack if anything happened to them. When his parents died, however, Medda was unemployed and not doing so great for herself so Jack was put into foster care until she was back on her feet.
> 
> Elf on the Shelf is hella creepy, you can't change my mind.
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!!
> 
> xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pete finally breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting hella early because my day is Packed™ and that means I'd either forget to post or get so busy trying to get this chapter story-ready that I wouldn't get anything else done. Also that means I have less time to edit tomorrow's chapter so who knows when that'll go up...
> 
> Finals are fun, y'all.

“ _Santa Claus is comin’ to town!_ ” Lucy sang for what felt like the thousandth time that night, and Jack and Katherine exchanged a tired glance in the kitchen as they put away leftovers from dinner.

“Someone’s ready for Christmas,” Katherine remarked, wincing a little as Corey joined Lucy, both singing loudly and off-key.

“Oh, just wait, babe,” Jack said, snapping the lid on the Tupperware. “We haven’t even watched _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ yet.”

Katherine half-groaned, half-laughed. “The lyrics don’t even make _sense_.”

Taking her hand, Jack spun her around their little kitchen in an exaggerated waltz, singing nonsensical lyrics. " _La do he day, rah no flah ayyyy—"_

"Stop, stop!" Katherine laughed, pushing her hair out of her face. "I'm dizzy!"

Laughing too, he pulled her close to peck her cheek before letting her go.

“Pete, sing with us!” Lucy pleaded, grabbing her oldest brother’s hand.

He shook her off, shaking his head. “Don’t wanna.”

Corey shook his shoulders. “C’mon, Pete! _SANTA CLAUS IS COMIN’_ —”

“ _No_!” Pete yelled suddenly, shoving Corey away from him. “Shut up, I don’t wanna hear that stupid song!”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Lucy promptly burst into tears and Corey shoved his brother back and shouted, “ _You’re_ stupid!”

Pete pushed back and, before Jack or Katherine could intervene, the two boys were rolling on the floor—narrowly missing Lucy, who shrieked and scrambled to get away—hitting and kicking each other.

“ _Whoa_!” Jack wasn’t sure what this was really about; all he knew was this wasn’t some play-fighting act—his boys were out for blood. He crossed the room in a flash while Katherine scooped up Lucy. “Nope, this ain’t happenin’,” he said, grabbing Corey around the middle and pulling him off Pete.

Wincing as Corey’s flailing feet kicked his shins, Jack managed to keep Pete from rushing them again. “ _Hey_!” He never raised his voice, not at home, but both boys seemed beyond rational hearing at this point.

It did the trick—Pete stood still with his fists clenched and Corey stopped kicking to be let down.

“What do we say ‘bout fightin’, huh? Pete?” His oldest just clamped his mouth shut and stared daggers at him.

Jack sighed. “We ain’t gonna have fightin’ okay? Pete, go to me an’ Mama’s room, Corey, go to yours. Go cool down,” he said, starting to put Corey down.

“He started it!” Corey wailed.

“Yeah, an’ I saw ya hittin’ too. Doesn’t matter who started what, fightin’ ain’t the answer. Okay?”

Pete just turned on his heel and stormed down the hall, Corey following him after Jack set him back on the ground. Two doors slammed in succession, and Jack rolled his shoulders, shooting Katherine a look.

“That… escalated quickly,” she remarked, rocking Lucy a little, rubbing her back.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah. Let ‘em cool off a few minutes, then maybe they’ll tell us what’s goin’ on.”

Twenty minutes later, Lucy was calmed down and happily working on a Christmas craft Katherine had found in their front closet. Jack and Katherine stood at the end of the hallway.

“Which one ya wanna take?” Jack asked.

She shook her head. “Neither? Can we just go back to when they were little and actually _liked_ each other?”

He laughed at that. “‘Fraid not, sweetheart. An’ they’s still in the cute phase—just wait ‘til they’re teenagers.” 

“Oh god,” Katherine groaned. “I was an awful teenager.”

“Hey, me too!” He kissed her cheek. “S’gonna be great. I’ll take Corey.”

“Oh, thanks. Leave me with the one closest to teenagerdom,” she said, faux annoyed, before walking down the hallway to their room. “Pete?” She knocked softly before opening the door to reveal their oldest, stretched out on their bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

Climbing in the bed next to him, Katherine curled her legs under her. He stubbornly refused to look at her, glaring up at the ceiling with red eyes. She brushed her thumb over the dried tear tracks on his cheek, furrowing her brow in worry.

Corey and Lucy were their criers—Pete was only ever likely to cry when he was angry or holding something in for too long. Picking a fight with his brother and storming off to cry about it? There had to be something going on in his head, and it’d been there a while.

“What’s the matter, bud?” she asked, combing back his hair a little with her fingers.

He sighed loudly, rubbing his eyes with his fist. “I _know_.”

“Know what, honey?”

Scoffing, Pete turned to look at her. “I know Santa’s not real,” he said bitterly.

Katherine sighed internally. She was surprised Pete had held belief this long, if she was honest. She and Jack had both been younger than him when they stopped believing.

“And that’s why you got upset over Corey and Lucy singing?”

“He’s _not_ coming,” Pete protested, sitting up. “There’s no North Pole, no workshop, no elves, no reindeer, no Santa! And you and Dad _lied_! My whole life!” With that, he turned away from her.

“Pete…”

“I don’t wanna talk to you!” His voice cracked and Pete curled in on himself.

She sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling to keep the tears back, and nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “Okay, honey. We’ll leave you alone for now, okay? Dad and I will be in the living room if you want to talk.”

There was no reasoning with him just now, when he was acting like they'd single-handedly broken his heart, so all she could do was remind him they were there to talk when he wanted to.

He didn’t say anything, and Katherine stood from the bed, crossing the room to the door and closing it as she stepped into the hallway. She leaned against the door a moment, swiping under her eyes quickly as one of the other bedroom doors opened and Jack and Corey came out into the hallway, Corey running for the living room.

“Ya alright, Ace?” Jack asked with concern. “Pete okay?”

“Uhm.” She wiped under her eyes again. “Yeah, no, it’s just. Pete knows, uhm. About—” she lowered her voice so it would carry into the living room. “— _Santa_ , and he’s just upset about it.”

“Oh, hey, c’mere.” He pulled her into a hug. “We knew this would happen one of these days.”

“Yeah, but,” Katherine groaned, wiping her eyes again. It was such a silly thing to be upset over, but she’d never been great with the kids hitting milestones like this. “We never talked about what to _do_ when it happened.”

Jack kissed her cheek, squeezing her a little. “We’ll figure it out, hon, don’t worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was about Pete's age when I had the whole "Santa" realization.... it's not fun when it first hits you...
> 
> I'd love to know your thoughts!!
> 
> xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brooklyn gets a little jittery.

Race and Brooklyn were just about to climb the steps to the apartment building when there was a loud _bang!_ down the street, causing Race to jump a bit—normally stuff like that didn't faze him anymore, the first shitty neighborhood he and Spot had lived in after college had all kinds of strange noises all times of the day and night, but he'd been listening to Brooklyn's story about her class that day and hadn't been prepared for it.

Brooklyn, however, jerked so hard he was afraid she'd hurt herself and dropped his hand to clap both hers over her ears.

Race knelt down, pulling her a little closer to the front stoop so she was out of the sidewalk. “Hey, hey, Brooklyn, it’s okay. S’just a car backfirin’.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, gloved hands still tight over her ears, practically shaking.

“If we go in, it’ll be lots quieter there, honey, okay?” he tried again, waiting for her nod before he gently took her shoulder and led her up the steps into the apartment building.

Brooklyn refused to drop her arms until they were in the lobby of the building and down the hall.

“Better?”

She nodded, and made a motion to reach for him, but held back. He reached a hand down, offering it to her, and she took it hesitantly, clinging to him when he gave her a reassuring smile.

“S’okay, hon. That was pretty loud, wasn’t it?”

Brooklyn nodded seriously, and he led her a little ways down to the mailboxes, collecting their mail.

“Ya got homework t’night, Brooklyn?” Race asked, flipping through the envelopes. He didn’t remember much about when he was in kindergarten, but he definitely didn’t remember so many worksheets.

She nodded, looking a little nervous as she flexed her hand around one of the straps of her backpack.

He couldn’t figure out why she looked nervous, but figured maybe she was still a little jumpy from the car backfiring. “Alrighty then, we’ll go upstairs an’ eat a snack an’ work on that, okay?”

Brooklyn nodded again, trailing behind him—still clinging to his hand—towards the elevators.

“Lookit that,” Race said, pulling out a brightly colored envelope and showing it to Brooklyn. “Kath’s Christmas letter.”

“A Christmas letter?”

“Yeah, s’a thing some people do, they send out a letter ‘round Christmas, tell people what’s been goin’ on the last year,” he explained, tearing the corner so he could find the picture. “An’ Jack an’ Kath like ta include a picture, see?”

“Where are they?” Brooklyn asked, looking at the picture closely.

“A place called Santa Fe. Jack’s always wanted to go there.”

She looked up at him. “Why? What’s there?”

He shrugged a little. If he was totally honest, he still didn’t understand the appeal. “Sand. And stars.”

Frowning, Brooklyn said, “But there’s sand at Coney Island.”

Race laughed at that. They’d taken her a couple weeks after she came to live with them as a late birthday present and, even though it had been getting cold, Brooklyn had _loved_ the beach. “That’s true.”

She tilted her head, looking at the picture. “Are there different stars in Santa Fe?”

“Nah, not different,” he said. “You can just see ‘em a little better there. There’s not as much light there.

“Oh.” She handed the picture back to him.

He flipped through the rest of the mail, humming under his breath, some song from a show he’d been in previews for just before Brooklyn came to live with them and he’d stepped down.

_Stars… So many stars at night… You could make diamonds dull..._

“I hafta give ya a note from my teacher,” Brooklyn said out of nowhere as the elevator stopped at their floor and they stepped off.

He looked down at her as he unlocked the door to the apartment. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, she put it in my folder so you an’ Sean would see it.” Stopping in the entryway, she dug her folder out of her backpack and handed it to him, rocking on her toes nervously.

Pulling out his glasses from his coat pocket, Race skimmed the paper. “This says you’ve been fallin’ asleep in class. Is that true?” he asked her gently.

Brooklyn nodded hesitantly.

Race looked over her glasses at her. “Why’ve ya been fallin’ asleep, Brooklyn?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I get sleepy, so I go to sleep on my desk.”

Leading her into the living room to sit on the couch, he asked, “Have ya not been sleepin’ good, honey?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. They were pretty lax, parenting-wise, but they’d had her on a schedule since the first weekend she came to live with them. Sure, bath time took a little longer when they had to wash her hair, but nearly every night they had her in bed by eight on the dot.

Brooklyn shrugged a little. “I guess…”

Race racked his brain, thinking of how to respond to that. He was surprised to know she’d been with them that long and they had no idea she wasn’t sleeping.

Before he could come up with anything, the door opened, and Spot stepped in, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it up in the closet.

“Hey,” he said, pleasantly surprised, standing. “Ya home early.”

Spot nodded, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he entered the living toom, stopping to kiss Race. “Yeah, we got that meetin’ tonight, ‘member?”

Realization dawned on Race and he nodded. “Oh, shoot, yeah, that’s today.” It was their six-week visit with Brooklyn's caseworker, Stephanie.

“Meetin’ who?” Brooklyn asked, twisting to look at Spot over the back of the couch.

“Miss Stephanie’s comin’ over tonight,” Spot explained, squeezing her shoulder as he walked past.

“Miss Stephanie?” she squeaked, a slight tremor in her voice.

Race looked down at her, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong, honey? Ya like Miss Stephanie, right?”

Instead of answering, she practically launched herself off the couch and latched onto Race’s leg, hiding her face in his jeans.

“Hey, Brooklyn, what’sa matter?” Spot knelt in front of her, noting her shiny eyes and trembling lower lip. He looked up at his husband, who looked as confused as he felt. Race gently laid a hand on her head, stroking her hair a little.

“Why’s Miss Stephanie comin’?” she asked.

“She just wants ta check on ya,” he explained carefully. “Make sure you’s havin’ fun wit’ me an’ Tony.”

Brooklyn nodded quickly. “‘m havin’ fun! I’m havin’ lots of fun, Sean!”

He smiled at her hurried assurances and reached out to brush her hair back. “Well that’s good, ‘cause we’s havin’ lots’a fun with you too. Now we just gotta tell Miss Stephanie we’s havin’ fun, okay?”

She didn’t look convinced, but nodded against Race’s knee. Spot reached out to squeeze her hand. “Hey, how’s about after ya finish ya homework, we watch a Christmas movie ‘til Miss Stephanie gets here? Tony’s got some good ones.”

Her eyes lit up a little. “Like Rudolph? I love Rudolph.” 

She did. It was inexplicable, but Brooklyn adored the red-nosed reindeer.

Spot nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah, ‘course we can, hon. Go get’cha homework an’ we’ll watch Rudolph okay?”

“Okay!” Detaching herself from Race, Brooklyn skipped back to the table where her homework folder was open.

Race slid an arm around Spot’s shoulders. “Spot Conlon, wantin’ ta watch Christmas cartoons? Will wonders ever cease?” he teased, pressing his lips to Spot’s temple.

Spot shrugged him off. “Yeah, yeah. Anythin’ ta get that look off her face, didja see? She looked so scared. I can sit through some stupid movie if it makes her happy.”

Tilting his head a little, Race smiled softly and kissed him until they were both breathless. 

"What—what was that?" Spot laughed.

"Nothin'. I just love ya s'all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> without realizing it, I set this chapter in the same year as [last year's Christmas letter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12772986/chapters/30002649) so click the link if you'd like to read it!!
> 
> I had to keep the Newsies-Mean Girls-Christmas streak alive, did you catch it?? ;P
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!!
> 
> xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Davey sticks his foot in his mouth
> 
> (and considering the size of those things, it's nothing short of impressive)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the "Davey Jacobs Doesn't Know His Own Feelings" Chapter

“Okay, guys, that was great work. We’ll meet back next week with a new world crisis for you to solve.” Davey dismissed his model U.N. students.

Stretching his arms over his head, he stood and began gathering his papers, sliding them into his folder as he waited for the students to filter out of the library meeting room.

He still had twenty minutes left on his break, he mused as he stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Enough time to grab lunch and maybe finish grading the last of his student’s tests before Winter Break…

“Oh!” Davey turned around in time to see a stack of books tilt precariously towards him.

Or maybe enough time to meet his maker via runaway books.

He threw his hands out, trying to catch the stack before it toppled. Catching the stack, he forgot about the folder in his hands and his papers spilled out, scattering across the floor.

“Well that wasn’t ideal,” a familiar voice said from behind the books. “Thank you for saving my books, Mr. Jacobs.”

Davey looked up from his papers to see Chaya peering around her books. “Not a problem, Miss Rosenfeld. Can I help you carry those?”

“Ah…” She looked from him to the books in her arms before conceding. “Yes, please, that would be helpful.”

Straightening, he shoved his papers in the bag slung over his shoulder and relieved her of half her stack. “Lead on, MacDuff.”

He caught a glimpse of her smile as she passed him, leading him to the nonfiction section. “Sorry about the collision. Were those your student’s papers?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. Just some stuff from the meeting with my crisis committee. We’re getting ready for the conference after winter break.”

“Ooh, anything I should be worried about?” Chaya asked jokingly, stopping to shelve one of the books in her hands.

“Well, unless you’re secretly a double agent for Lord Voldemort, I think you’ll be fine,” Davey teased.

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “You don’t know what I do in my free time.”

A surprised laugh escaped him at her response, which had caught him off guard. Chaya could be quick and cheeky with her responses, but it happened so rarely at work, that it still caught him off-guard.

Not for the first time since meeting her, Davey tried to puzzle out what it was that made his stomach feel light and his heart beat a little too fast whenever he was around her.

The first conversation they’d had he’d left sure he was suddenly ill and convinced himself it was something he ate, but then he saw her again, and again, with the same feeling.

There was a pattern, sure, but he couldn’t figure out what caused it.

“There’s a crisis simulation for _Harry Potter_?” she asked, unaware of his internal conflict.

Davey nodded before remembering she couldn’t see him. “Oh! Yeah, found it online from a conference in Virginia. Thought it might be kinda fun for them with Winter Break coming up, give 'em a bit of a break.”

Chaya nodded a little, stopping to shelve a book. “Any big plans for your Winter Break?” she asked, looking up at him a moment before continuing down the aisle.

He mused a moment over that. “Grading, seeing my nieces and nephews some more, grading, a gingerbread house contest with some friends, and… did I mention grading?”

She chuckled. “That sounds eventful—and full of grading. What's this gingerbread house contest?”

“Oh, somethin’ that started way back in college." Dave couldn't remember exactly when it started, just that it'd been Albert and Elmer's idea. "We wear ugly sweaters, build gingerbread houses and blow up the losing one.”

“That sounds… I can’t decide how that sounds. Dangerous?” she laughed, looking back at him a moment.

He laughed too. “Yeah, the last time I wasn’t there to supervise, Race ended up in the hospital, trying to light a cigarette with a lit firecracker.”

This time Chaya fully stopped, turning around to look at him. “I don’t even know where to begin with that one, but _Race_?”

Davey shrugged. “We’re big on nicknames. His husband’s Spot, but that one at least makes sense—he’s got vitiligo on his arm so. Not original, but it makes sense. Never really figured out where Race came from.”

She shook her head. “Your friends sound… fascinating,” she finally decided. “I’d… I think I’d like to meet them some day.” He barely caught a glimpse of her half-smile before she turned and led him to another shelf.

He followed her, definitely not imagining what it’d be like to introduce Chaya to his insanely large, loud friend group. He almost couldn’t see this small, quiet woman fitting in with them—but then, they hadn’t really expected Katherine to fit in at first…

_Stop it, she’s just being polite._

“What about you?” Davey quickly change the subject before his imagination could run away again—they called Jackie the dreamer, but right now he could give him a run for his money. “Think you’ll make it home to see your family at all?”

Chaya was quiet a moment before saying, “I don’t know yet what I’ll do. Maybe get caught up on some reading? Wait for it to finally feel like winter? It’s a little warm, don’t you think?”

Davey pressed his lips together. He knew it was a testy subject for her, her family, but he’d panicked and hadn’t thought about it. “Yeah, pretty warm for December.”

They continued shelving in silence, Davey wracking his brain for a way to get past this awkward bit.

“Hey, speaking of families,” he said, running with the first thought that crossed his mind. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Sunday. I know my family can be… a lot.”

Chaya shook her head, smiling a little. “It wasn’t a problem. I had a really good time.” She took the last couple books from him to shelve.

“Good! I mean… that’s good, I’m glad. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t awkward or anything for you,” he rambled as they made their way towards the check-out desk, fidgeting with the strap of his bag, unsure of what to do with his hands now that they were empty.

“No, it was a lot of fun. I’m sorry if I made you think I thought it was awkward or anything,” she said, looking a little worried.

“No, it’s fine, I just wasn’t… sure.”

Chaya studied him a long moment before asking, “Do you… did you _want_ it to be awkward?”

Davey shook his head adamantly. “No! No, ‘m not sayin’ that—” _Oh no was that his accent coming through again?_ “—s’just, Hanukkah’s for y’know… family, and we’re not—”

“Not what?” she asked with just a hint of a challenge.

 _Oy vey iz mir how did we end up here?_ Davey thought wildly. “We’re…” he floundered for a bit, his mind racing to come up with a suitable answer but he _couldn’t_ , it was like all the thoughts had flown from his head, and he couldn’t remember where he’d even been going with his original statement, and he was drowning, drowning in deep brown eyes that were flashing, waiting for him to answer her.

 _We’re_ what _, David?_ they seemed to ask.

A small cough interrupted them, and they both turned to see a girl Davey recognized from his second period class holding a book.

“Uhm, sorry. You were just… standing there,” she said, shifting a little awkwardly.

Turning away from him, Chaya gave the girl in line a smile. “You’re fine, Claire. What do you have this week?”

As she stepped behind the front desk, Davey felt something completely different than what he normally felt when he left Chaya in the library—an odd, vague feeling of he’d definitely said or done something wrong.

But he couldn’t figure out what exactly it’d been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas fic or Davey-and-Chaya-may-or-may-not-get-togehter fic?? YOU decide ;)
> 
> "Oy vey iz mir" literally translates to "Woe is me" and it's an older expression but Davey's pretty old-fashioned, he could probably get away with it ;)
> 
> The [Harry Potter Crisis Simulation](https://www.vamun.org/harry-potter) is real and you can read about it on that link and it's absolutely something Davey would choose for his Model UN kids DON'T @ ME
> 
> for anyone also reading _Play Me a Memory_ , it will be temporarily going on hiatus until I can get caught up with this one a little more, because I'm at a day-to-day point right now, but I hope to bring it back soon!!!
> 
> Comments give me life, I'd love to know what you think!!
> 
> xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and Pete have a serious talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies in advance for any mistakes, this was written and hastily edited in the two hours I had before work!!

“It’s the most beautifulest tree _ever_ ,” Lucy breathed, looking up at the tree in their living room in awe.

They’d just picked out the tree that afternoon, after picking up the kids from school, and, after lugging it from their car to the apartment, it now stood in the center of their living room, bare and ready to be made festive.

Jack chuckled. “Ya think that’s good, Lucy-Goose, just wait’ll we get the lights an’ ornaments on.”

Her eyes went impossibly wider. “Yeah! Let’s do that _now_ Daddy!” She grabbed his hand and tried valiantly to drag him towards the tree. “C’mon, c’mon, _c’mon_ , we gotta dec’rate!”

“Whoa, honey,” Katherine laughed, stopping Lucy with a hand on her head. “Why don’t you let Daddy and I put the lights on and you, Corey, and Pete can get the ornaments ready to hang up?” she suggested, gesturing to their—several—tubs of ornaments they’d brought out of storage.

“Okay!” Lucy grabbed Corey’s hand and he allowed her to drag him over to the tubs to start digging through them. “Pete, c’mon!”

Jack looked over to see their oldest sitting at the kitchen table, headphones over his ears, reading. He’d followed them almost sullenly around the tree lot as they picked out a tree, simply shrugging when they asked for his opinion on anything.

They understood that Pete was still hurt about the Santa revelation, but Corey and Lucy were starting to pick up on his disinterest and they weren't sure what would happen if one of them confronted Pete about it.

“Let ‘im read, Luce, we’ll ask ‘im again when it’s time ta hang ‘em up, okay?”

Lucy looked between her brother and daddy a moment, looking as concerned as a five-year-old could, before chirping “Okay!” and pulling out ornaments, giggling with Corey over the vast variety they had—everything from homemade to classic globes to silly novelty ones he and the kids liked to pick out.

While they did that, Jack and Katherine took turns passing the strand of lights around the tree, draping the lights over the branches.

"Ace, why's you takin' so long on your side?" Jack asked. "Ya just gotta get the lights on, babe."

"I'm— _trying_ —to get these lights distributed evenly so it looks nice," Katherine said absently, and Jack poked his head around to see her carefully winding the lights around the individual branches. "Wait," she looked up suddenly with slightly narrowed eyes. "How are _you_ putting them on?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "'m just... puttin' 'em on."

She stood to round the tree and look at his side. "Jack! Now it's all uneven!"

"Well if I knew it was s'posed ta be fancy, I woulda done it fancy," Jack said, amused. He was almost certain they'd had this conversation last year—Katherine sometimes picked the strangest things to be picky about, wanting it to be 'just so', and their Christmas tree lights was one of them.

Katherine ignored him, studying the tree a moment. "Maybe we could turn the tree some..."

"What, an' leave my ugly side in the back? Nuh-uh, that ain't fair!" He'd tried to say it with a straight face, but a laugh escaped him at the end. Turning, he said, mock-haughtily, "I'd like a second opinion. 'Ay, Luce? What'cha think? Which side d'ya like best?"

Lucy stopped what she was doing to look at the tree. "Uhm... that side," she said, pointing.

"Ya mean,  _this_ side?" Jack asked, gesturing to his side of the tree.

" _No,_ Daddy," Lucy giggled. " _Mama's_ side. S'pretty!"

Katherine gave him a triumphant look. "Thank you Lucy, it  _is_ pretty, isn't it?"

"Whoa, whoa, wait, I get a third opinion," Jack demanded. "Corey—?"

"I like Mama's side best too," he said, giggling a little.

Clutching his chest, Jack bemoaned, " _Betrayed_ by my own children!" Making a show of staggering to the couch, he dropped onto it, lolling his head. "I hopes you all are  _happy_."

"I will be when the lights are right," he heard Katherine mutter under Corey and Lucy's laughter at his dramatics. He shot her a wink, heaving himself off the couch. 

"I  _guess_ I'll fix it, make it look pretty like Mama's—Hey, Pete," he said as he saw his oldest trying to sneak past to his room. "What'cha think, which side looks best?"

Katherine swatted at his arm. "Oh, Jack,  _really_ ," she laughed.

"No, s'important that someone sides wit' me. Pete?"

Pete shrugged. "I dunno. They look fine," he said, turning to head down the hallway.

"Why don't'cha help with some'a this Christmas stuff, Pete?" Jack tried again.

"Yeah," Katherine joined in. "We have lots of ornaments to get out still if you want to help Corey and Lucy."

“I’m not doin' Christmas stuff,” Pete said decisively, catching them both off-guard. "I'm gonna boycott."

Before Jack or Katherine could say anything, Lucy cocked her head and asked, “What’sa boy-cott? Do I have one? Like a girl-cott?”

“I have one!” Corey said proudly. “It’s a Corey-cott!”

"There's no _girl-cott_ or  _Corey-cott_ ," Pete said, a little sarcastically. "Boycott means I'm not doing Christmas 'cause it's not a good holiday."

Lucy looked like she'd been smacked in the face. "But... Christmas is the _best_ ," she insisted, looking up at Jack and Katherine a little uncertainly.

"No, it's not, it's—"

"Okay, Peter." Jack said, straightening up and handing the end of the light rope to Katherine. "C'mon, we's gonna have a talk." 

Katherine met his eyes as he passed her, asking a silent question. He shook his head, squeezing her arm a little in assurance that he had this.

As Jack followed Pete to his and Corey's room, Lucy approached Katherine with wide, slightly teary eyes. "Mama?"

Smoothing a hand over her hair, Katherine smiled down at her. "Don't worry, honey. Pete's just a little upset. Sometimes we say things we don't mean when we're sad."

"Is Petey sad?"

"He's a little sad right now, but he'll be better soon." 

Lucy nodded sagely. "He can pick the movie tonight!" she offered. "That'll make him happy, right?"

Katherine smiled, ruffling Lucy's hair a little. She'd been practically bouncing all day, excited to be able to pick their Christmas movie for that night after dinner. "That's very sweet of you, Lucy. We can ask him after he and Daddy talk, okay?"

"Okay!"

Down the hall, Jack was sitting on the edge of Pete's bed while Pete sat up against his pillows, sullenly picking at his stuffed duck. "Okay, bud," Jack finally said. "What's up?"

Pete stayed quiet, not meeting his eyes, and Jack sighed. "Look, kid, I'm good to sit here 'til you's ready to talk. An' I've waited out Uncle Sean an' ya Mama, the two stubbornest people I know, so—"

"Since I know about Santa now, does that mean I just get birthday presents?" Pete finally asked, cutting him off. 

Jack cocked his head. "Only get—you's worried about presents?"

Pete shrugged. "I mean, I always got presents from Santa and then I got presents for my birthday. Do I not get Christmas presents anymore?"

Trying to wrap his head around that, Jack finally said, "Well, Pete, since you's old enough ta know, all those 'Santa' presents came from me an' ya Mom, so no we weren't just gonna take away ya Christmas presents... but ya know that presents ain't all Christmas's about, right?"

Shrugging again, he looked up at Jack. "S'what it usually is."

"Oh, no." He hadn't realized that's all Pete assumed Christmas was about. "Okay, kiddo," he settled in a little more comfortably."Time for a little history lesson. Do ya know where the story of Santa comes from?"

Pete shook his head.

"Well, long, long time ago, there was a man called Saint Nick. An' every year, 'round Christmas time, he'd take stuff to kids in the village." He was embellishing a little, he knew, but he figured the whole story could wait until Pete was a little older. Right now, he was trying to prove a point.

"You mean like _presents_?" Pete asked.

Jack gave him a look. "Yeah, kinda, but that still ain't the point. Point is, Saint Nicholas didn't have ta take anythin' to those kids. He did it 'cause it made 'im happy ta see those kids so happy. See, Christmas is 'bout spreadin' joy an' makin' good memories with people ya love. Can ya remember _every_ present ya got from Santa? Can ya even remember everythin' ya got just last year?"

Pete thought about it a moment, running through a mental list, Jack was sure, before shaking his head. "No," he admitted.

"Now what 'bout some'a ya favorite Christmas memories? Can ya think'a those?"

He thought about that a minute, and Jack noticed his face light up minutely as he did. "Yeah. Like when Uncle Al said mine an' Corey's gingerbread house was the best and we blew up Uncle Davey's,  and when Miss Medda took us caroling, and—oh! Last year when we got snowed in at Grandma and Grandpa's and we got to stay in the really big bedroom! And we were there until Christmas day! That was fun."

 _Maybe for you, kid_. Getting snowed in at Joe and Kate's had been... unexpected, and a little tense, so close to the holidays, but the kids had had a  _blast_. They loved visiting the big house Upstate. "See?" Jack brushed that off for now—this was about Pete. "Ya remember Christmas memories more'n ya do the presents, don't'cha?"

Realization dawned on Pete, subtly, but it was there. "I... I guess..."

"An' part'a bringin' that joy ta others is lettin' the littler kids believe in Santa a little longer, right?" Jack hoped it wouldn't be a problem, but Pete had always been a big believer in the truth and he'd prefer their youngest to come to the conclusion on their own.

"'Cause it makes Corey and Lucy happy?" Pete half-answered, half-questioned. 

Jack nodded. "They'll get ta where you are now, one'a these days, where they's old enough to understand the spreadin' joy part, but f'r now, you can set the example f'r 'em. Do—d'ya understand?" He hadn't always been the best at being able to speak Pete's language, make it to where he could understand, but he thought he might've done okay here.

Pete was quiet a moment before saying, "I think so. Can I think about it a little?"

"Yeah, 'course ya can, kid. An' me an' Mom are always here ta answer any questions ya got, okay?" Pete nodded, and Jack squeezed his foot. "'m gonna go finish helpin' Mom in the livin' room if ya need either one'a us, okay? We'll come get'cha for dinner."

Nodding again, Pete was quiet as he played with the frayed edges of his duck some more, clearly deep in thought.

Standing, Jack crossed the room to the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving it open a crack, before heading into the living room.

The tree was lit up, and Lucy and Corey were hanging up their favorite ornaments as high as they could—which... wasn't very high. Katherine looked up from sorting the stockings as he entered.

"Everything okay?" she asked quietly.

“Yeah, I think he'll be fine.” Jack shrugged. "I think I got through ta him. Sorta, anyways."

Tugging on his hand so he was level with her, Katherine kissed him, cupping his chin. "You're a  _pretty_ good dad, Jack Kelly. I'm sure you did great."

He sighed a little dramatically. "I know, it's so hard being SuperDad all the time..."

She smacked him with the stockings, pushing him away from her. "And there you've gone and ruined it," she complained.

"Hey, SuperDad's nothin' without SuperMom. S'like... Steve Trevor without Wonder Woman."

Katherine mused over that a moment. "I'll allow that," she said with smile.

Jack leaned down to kiss her again. "Hey, we don’t know a Corey Cott, do we? Sounded familiar…”

“Babe, I don’t think Cott’s a real name.”

“Yeah, you’s prob’ly right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what, I think I'm funny XD
> 
> silly me, thinking I could name one of JACK KELLY'S children Corey and have it slip under the radar ;)
> 
> for those of you not around last Christmas, Pete was born on Christmas Day, so they have a lil Christmas baby!
> 
> I'd love to write the snowed-in scene one day, just because I think it'd be hilarious and it—like the gingerbread house contest—is autobiographical, I was once snowed in at my grandparent's one year, and also because I have a very nice scene in mind for Joe and Jack...
> 
> my favorite ornament we have is a raccoon in a trashcan and there's literally no reason for me to love this ornament so much but I DO it makes me laugh every year when we pull it out. what's y'all's favorite ornament??
> 
> xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the kids make cookies and Spot and Race fight with lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just admit you all love me for the Corey Cott pun and let's move on with our lives.... ;)
> 
> and if you don't....
> 
> well, Grace made me do it.
> 
> **also, more seriously, a strong language note for this chapter, because, let's face it, Spot's been living with a five year old for two months and hasn't been able to swear**

“Dammit! Ow, fuck!” Spot jerked his hand away from the outlet. “Shit, that _hurt_ ,” he mumbled around the finger in his mouth

“Coulda got a pre-lit tree,” Race said. “But _nooo_ , hadta get a ‘real’ tree.”

Spot gave him a dry look, pulling his hand away to check for burns. “Real tree says Christmas,” he explained. “Ain’t gettin’ a fake tree for Brooklyn’s first real Christmas.”

Race shook his head fondly. They’d talked Jack and Kath into taking Brooklyn again so he and Spot could get the apartment decorated to surprise her. Right after dropping her off at their apartment, Spot had insisted they go to a tree lot and pick out a tree for the room.

“Ya ever have a real tree, Spotty?” he asked, unraveling a rope of garland.

Spot shook his head, trying to untangle the lights he had in his hands. “Nah, not that I can remember. Didn’t really do Christmas after Mom died, an’ before, ‘m pretty sure we just had one’a them fake trees. You?”

He shrugged. “Couple’a years, yeah, when we was younger. Camilla an’ Marcie ‘member it better’n I do.”

“Maybe—agh! What’s up wit’ these stupid lights?” Spot dropped his hands, still holding the tangled mess of lights. “They do this shit on purpose.”

Race laughed, crossing the living room to his husband. “Yeah, get’cha cursin’ out now, ‘fore Brooklyn gets back.”

His husband made a face at him. “You fell in love with the swearin’, don’t pretend ya hate it now.”

“Damn right I did,” Race said, looping the garland around Spot’s neck and pulling him in to peck his lips. He draped it over his shoulders, taking the lights from Spot. “Here, you handle somethin’ easy, I’ll take the lights.”

Spot scoffed, tugging the garland from his neck. “Where should it go?”

Race shrugged. “Around the door? Over the fireplace? Somethin’ like that? Where’re Kath’s pictures?”

“Uhm,” Spot picked up the box of ornaments off the coffee table. “Here. This’s got it ‘round the door, an’ a wreath on the door. We got a wreath, yeah?”

“Yeah… somewhere,” Race said, untangling the lights to hang on the tree. After a moment, he looked over at Spot, who was sifting through the bags of ornaments and decorations for the wreath. “What was ya sayin’ earlier ‘bout real trees?”

Spot straightened with the garland in one hand, wreath in the other, brow furrowed a moment before he remembered. “Oh, I was just thinkin’… maybe we do the real Christmas tree every year.”

He shrugged a little self-consciously at that and Race wondered if his husband was thinking the same thing he was.

They _never_ went this all-out for a holiday—except maybe Halloween, and that was Race’s doing and Spot putting up with it—and Christmas was no exception. He can’t even remember if they got a tree last year and here they were, ankle-deep in garland and lights and ornaments and a tree that they’d spent nearly an hour picking out that morning, all for their—for Brooklyn, and Spot was already thinking about doing it all again next year?

It’d been two short months since Brooklyn came to live with them, and Race had to wonder if he and Spot were on the same page about…

Well. It was probably too soon to be thinking about permanent changes. So he went with the joke. “Think ya can handle the lights every year?” he teased.

Spot rolled his eyes. “S’what I got you f’r, babe.”

 

~*~

 

“Alright, time to make these cookies reindeers!” Katherine said, arranging the unbaked cookies on the baking sheet. Jack and Pete had gone to see Charlie after hockey that morning—Charlie sometimes let Pete help out at the shelter on the weekend for a little allowance money—and she, Corey, Lucy, and Brooklyn were making Christmas cookies.

“How do we make ‘em reindeers, Mama?” Lucy asked, raising up on her knees in the chair.

Pushing her shoulder a little, Katherine chided her gently. “Bottom in the chair, Lucy.”

“Yeah _Lucy_ ,” Corey teased, climbing in his chair across from her. Shooting him a look, he just gave Katherine a wide, innocent smile.

Shaking her head, she answered Lucy. “We’re going to take the pretzels and press them here for antlers, then take the chocolate chips and make them into eyes, and put the M&M here for a nose.” She demonstrated quickly before leaning back a little so they could see. “See? Easy!”

Brooklyn gasped a little. “It’s Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer!” she said excitedly.

“Yeah, it is,” Katherine laughed. “Do you like Rudolph?”

Nodding seriously, Brooklyn said, “He’s my favorite.”

“Well, then, how about you do the nose for the cookies? Sound good?”

She might as well have handed Brooklyn the Holy Grail based on the wide-eyed excited look she had on her face. “Yeah!”

Sliding the bowl of M&Ms to Brooklyn, Katherine asked, “Want to do the eyes, Lucy-Goose?”

“No, I wanna eat the chocolate chips!” Lucy giggled, reaching to dip her hand into the bowl.

“Ah-ah,” Katherine said, catching the bowl first. “Decorate the cookies and then you can have a _few_ chocolate chips, okay?”

Lucy narrowed her eyes a little, probably thinking of a way to negotiate into getting chocolate chips _now_. Finally after a moment, she said, “Okay,” with only the slightest bit of a pout.

“And that leaves the antlers to you, Corey-kid. Think you can handle it?”

“Uh, _yeah_!” he said in his best “duh” voice, already digging into the bag of pretzels.

“Ooh, better hurry, you two,” Katherine said. “Brooklyn’s making pretty good time with the noses. She’s leaving you behind!”

"Nooo, Brooklyn  _slow down_!" Lucy wailed dramatically as Brooklyn giggled, pressing another M&M into the cookie dough.

Before long, she was sliding cookie sheets into the oven and situating Corey, Lucy, and Brooklyn with paper and pencils to begin their letters to Santa.

“‘m askin’ for hockey skates!” Corey said excitedly. “Coach James says maybe next year I can be on the team like Pete, I just gotta practice!”

Katherine smiled at him over her laptop—he’d been begging for hockey skates since Pete joined up a couple months back. He hadn’t even considered joining until Pete did, but now it was all he could talk about. “Sounds great, hon.”

Lucy tossed her hair. “Well _I’m_ askin’ him for new boots an’ for Surprise Eye-Spy animals an’… ooh! Legos!” she added excitedly, hurriedly adding it to her list to Santa. “What’re ya askin’ Santa for, Brooklyn?” Lucy asked, wanting to include her friend in the conversation.

Brooklyn shrugged, looking down at her paper, which was blank except for _Dear Santa_. “I dunno. I never wrote a letter to Santa. What d’ya ask him for?”

Lucy’s little jaw dropped. “You _never_ wrote a letter to Santa?” Before Brooklyn could answer, she continued. “Well, you ask ‘im f’r _lots_ of stuff! Whatever ya want most for Christmas!”

Poking out her lip, Brooklyn nodded seriously. “Okay,” she said after a moment and started scribbling away.

Leaning over, Lucy tried to look over her shoulder. “What’cha askin’ for?”

Curling an arm around her paper, Brooklyn shook her head as she kept writing. “S’a secret.”

“I told _you_!” Lucy said, pouting.

“Lucille.” Katherine said in warning. “Brooklyn doesn’t have to share if she doesn’t want to, okay?”

Sitting back in her chair and playing with her pencil a little, Lucy relented. “‘Kay.”

The kids wrote for a little while longer before Katherine checked the time on the cookies and decided it was time to pull out the envelopes. “Okay, you ready to address your letters to Santa?”

“Yes!” Corey said, bouncing in his seat. “Look, Mom, I drew a picture’a me wearin’ skates so Santa’d know which ones I wanted!”

“Oh, look at that,” Katherine leaned over his chair to see. “Great idea, honey, now he knows exactly what to get you.” Mentally, she made a note of the color of the skates—she’d already forgotten what she and Jack had bought last week, she’d have to check their hiding place.

“Mamaaaaaa,” Lucy waved her arms at Katherine. “What’s our address?”

She caught Lucy’s hand before it could smack her in the face. “One minute, Lucy-Goose, okay? I’ll write it down for you,” she said, kissing her fingers.

Lucy kept her arms outstretched, pulling on Katherine’s arm, and she allowed herself to be tugged down so Lucy could hug her around her neck. “I love you, Mama.”

“Love you, too, Lucy-Goose.” Kissing the top of her head, Katherine scratched her scalp lightly before sitting back down and writing their address for Lucy and Corey to copy. “There you go—ah, share that, you two. Santa’s watching,” she added as they started to squabble for the Post-it note.

“Uhm, Kath’rine?” Brooklyn asked tentatively.

“What’s up, hon?”

Twisting her pencil in her hand, Brooklyn said, “I, uh, I don’t know Sean an’ Tony’s address.”

“Oh! Sorry, Brooklyn, just a sec, I have it here.” Katherine pulled out her phone to find Spot’s contact. “Alright, right here—” she tapped the upper corner of the envelope. “—Write your name. Then on the next line five-zero-seven, Graham—G-R-A-H-A-M—A-V-E, and then another line. Brooklyn, N-Y—”

Brooklyn looked up at her. “Wait, I write my name twice?”

It took a moment for it to register for Katherine, but it clicked, and she laughed a little. “Oh, no, honey. Brooklyn is your name, yes, but it’s also a place, and that’s where you live with Sean and Tony.”

“Brooklyn has a whole _place_ named after her?” Lucy exclaimed.

Katherine wracked her brain, torn between simplifying the explanation of New York’s boroughs and going along with it, if only because Brooklyn looked so excited at the thought.

She was saved from having to make the decision when the timer on the oven went off. “Oh look at that! Think the cookies are done?”

 

~*~

 

Spot and Race dropped on the couch, sighing in relief. Their apartment was officially a winter wonderland. The tree was up and lit and decorated, garland framed every door, a wreath hung on their door, knick-knacks cluttered every available surface—stockings were even hung by the chimney with care.

(Fake fireplace, but the sentiment was still there)

"Looks real good, Spotty," Race said, half-laying on him so he could crane his neck and look around the living room.

"Yeah not bad f'r a couple'a first timers."

“Kinda hate the stockings, though,” Race said, wrinkling his nose at the generic red, white, and green stockings hanging up. "They's kinda borin'."

Spot shrugged, wrapping an arm around him. “Yeah, but they’s good ‘nough for gettin’ the apartment decorated. Next year we c’n get good ones f’r the—for us.”

“Yeah?”

Looking down at him, Spot asked, “What? Why ya sound so surprised?”

Race shook his head. “Nah, ‘m not surprised, I’m just thinkin’… when we first started datin’, I couldn’t getcha ta think farther’n where we’d go out on Thursday nights, an’ now you’s thinkin’ ‘bout next year. S’just… s’real nice,” he said, snuggling into his husband a little.

Spot tugged his curls a little. “Yeah it’s almost like people grow up an’ change an’ shit,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah.” Race sat up to kiss him. “Ain’t it great?”

They heard a key turn in the lock and turned in time to see Katherine pushing the door open and Lucy and Brooklyn tumble through the door, giggling.

"Please, don't get up on my account," Katherine said drily as she set Brooklyn's backpack next to the door.  

Spot nudged Race to get him off his lap so he could stand. "Hey Kath. How was she?"

"Oh, great," Katherine waved a hand. "Always is. A little hopped up on sugar now, but we had a good day of baking cookies and writing Santa letters, didn't we, girls?"

Lucy and Brooklyn were too busy staring around the apartment in wonder. 

" _Whoa_ ," Brooklyn breathed, eyes wide.

"Uncle Sean, your house looks  _beautiful_!" Lucy said.

Even Katherine looked impressed. "You guys did a great job," she agreed. "Almost didn't recognize the place."

"Well, couldn't'a done it without ya help."

"Oh, I know. Still looks great," she said, winking. Turning to Lucy, she said, "Come on Luce. Daddy and the boys are getting dinner ready for us, time to get going."

Surprising the adults in the room, Brooklyn turned to Lucy first with a hug. "Bye Lucy!"

"Bye Brooklyn!" Saying goodbye to her uncles and hugging Brooklyn once more, Lucy skipped to Katherine's side to take her hand as they left.

Without any distractions, Brooklyn was still staring up at the tree, circling it to look at all the ornaments they'd hung up. Tentatively, she reached out to touch one of the branches, smiling a little.

"Didja have fun with Kath an' Lucy an' Corey, Brooklyn?" Race asked, breaking her out of her daze.

And, _boy_ , did it break. “Tony! Didja know we live in _Brooklyn_? An’ that’s my _name_! Isn’t that cool?” Before Race could answer, she was already turning around and digging through her backpack again, pulling out a Tupperware container and an envelope. “An’ look! We made Rudolph cookies at Jack an’ Katherine’s! An' I wrote a letter to  _Santa_! Can we go put it in the mail now? Please?"

Race was almost too stunned to say anything—in all the time she'd been with them they'd  _never_ seen her this animated. But there she was, standing—more like bouncing—in front of him, wide. hopeful smile on her face, chattering excitedly about her day. It was the first crack they'd seen in the shy shell she preferred to keep herself in.

He shook himself out of it, nodding and grinning at her. "Yeah, 'course we can, sweetheart, lemme get my shoes on, okay?" Exchanging a glance with Spot, who looked like he was thinking the same thing as him, Race grabbed his shoes from by the front door.

"Sean! Ya wanna come mail my Santa letter with me?" Brooklyn asked from where she stood bouncing on her toes by the door.

"Uh, yeah, hon! I just gotta find my shoes too, just a sec." Leaning down next to Race, he asked quietly, "What happened?"

Race shrugged, flashing a half-grin at him. "I dunno. Ain't it great, though?"

"Oh, yeah. Hope it sticks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coach James is actually Coach James... DaSilva
> 
> *courtroom gasp*
> 
> He's Al's oldest brother who Jack and Katherine did not know existed until Pete signed up for pee-wee hockey and Jack especially was Shook™ (and then he learned about Tom. Then he just felt like he didn't actually know his friends at all;) it's a very dramatic time)
> 
> Brooklyn's name origin is a little sad so I won't get into it here. if you want to know, you know where to find me!! here or on tumblr @wordshakerofgallifrey!!
> 
> xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we take a brief interlude to check in on Al.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real warnings here, I def kept it clean for the pure Christmas story I got going on, but Al and Marissa are... well, simply put, their relationship is p adult.

Al’s phone buzzed on the nightstand next to Marissa’s bed and he lolled his head to look at it. Picking it up, he replied to Tom before dropping his phone on his stomach and wondered if he remembered where his pants had ended up.

“Who was that?” Marissa asked from across the room, where she was already pulling a shirt over her head.

“My brother. Tryin’ ta figure out shit for gettin’ to our dad’s for Christmas.”

“The… gym teacher?” she asked.

Albert shook his head. “Nah, that’s m’oldest brother. Tom’s a CrossFit trainer.”

She paused with a brush in her hand. “You have more than one brother?”

“Yeah. What, never come up?” he asked, leaning over the edge of the bed to pick up his shirt.

“I don’t think so.” Marissa didn’t seem too concerned—or interested, for that matter.

Standing, Al shrugged into his shirt. “Well, now ya know. Two brothers.”

Marissa had already slid back into bed with her laptop and a folder of papers, sliding on her reading glasses. “That’s nice,” she said a little absently, powering on her computer.

“Ya already back ta work?” he asked, stepping into his boxers and sitting on the edge of her bed to check his messages again.

He turned to see her rake a hand through her hair. “I have a board meeting in the morning I have to finish preparing for.”

“S’funny, I gotta board meetin’ tomorrow too.” She gave him a look. “Yeah, s’what we call it when me, Racer, an’ JoJo get together an’ talk shit about dance parents ‘fore we open.”

Rolling her eyes a little, she pressed her lips together slightly, the closest she ever got to looking amused. “Well, this is serious and I’ve been really stressing about it.”

“Ohhh, so’s ‘m just a distraction, huh?” Albert teased, leaning his head on his hand, looking up at her.

Marissa waved a hand dismissively. “You know where the door is, Albert.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can take a hint,” Al rolled his eyes and standing.

“Can you?”

“Yeah, just as soon’s I find my—”

“—your pants are by the couch.”

“Oh, thanks.” He wandered into the living room where, sure enough, his jeans were thrown over the arm of the couch.

Pulling them back on, Albert went back down the hallway to lean on the doorframe to her room. “This was fun. Call me again next time ya need a distraction, alright? Pretty good at that shit, ya know?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Marissa didn’t even look up from her laptop. “I do. Now go, I have a lot of work. I’ll call you next week.”

“You betta’,” he singsonged as he turned to leave her apartment.

Once outside, Albert tucked his hands in his coat pockets, hunching his shoulders a little against the wind, and began walking home.

He and Marissa’d had this on-again, off-again… “relationship”, he guessed. Or whatever the loosest definition of relationship was that included drinks, dancing, sex, and leaving before their skin had even cooled, just to do it again the next week.

It worked for them, the “no feelings” thing, they’d been clear about that since the beginning. They got together two, three times a month and that was it.

Simple. Easy.

No strings attached.

Not for the first time, he wondered what it was like, being in a relationship with love and shit, something like Jack and Kathy, or Spot and Race, or James and his wife had.

It didn’t bother him like it had back in college, but he still wondered about it.

His phone buzzed again, interrupting his thoughts, and he pulled it out of his pocket as he stopped at the crosswalk.

It was James, sending him a picture of his kids wearing stupid Christmas sweaters and a _Hey asshole. Danny and Gabi can’t wait to see you at Christmas_

Albert shook his head, smirking before he texted his brother back and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

His life may not look like his brother’s, or any of his friends, but it was his and he was happy with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you've been around for a while and now a little about Al and Marissa, you may know where this is going. for everyone else, you'll just have to be surprised!!! ;)
> 
> shoutout to Grace, who helped invent this disastrous, dysfunctional couple whom we simultaneously love and hate.
> 
> shorter chapter for today, sorry!! hope you still enjoy!!
> 
> xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sarah and Les are... well, Sarah and Les.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I'm a little slow at getting to comments with finals, but I would like to take a moment to defend Al and Marissa--Al is *very* aromantic. he's not looking for a romantic relationship at all, neither is Marissa, but they're good in bed together and that's pretty much the extent of their relationship, that's literally all they were looking for when they met. when I wrote about Al wondering about other relationships, it wasn't wistful, it was just "huh. wonder what that's like."

“Hey!” Davey smacked Les’s hand as he reached over him to grab another piece of _challah_. “Wait ‘til Sarah gets here.”

“Ow! You’re as bad as Mom,” Les whined. “An’ I’m twenty-six, Davey, quit treatin’ me like I’m ten.”

“Stop acting like it then,” Davey retorted. “You didn’t even help make the food.”

“I made the _latkes_!” Les protested.

“That’s easy!”

“Y’know, some of us have to work all day, we don’t get to leave at three like some lucky people.”

Davey scoffed. “ _Lucky_ , d’ya want to talk about how much time I put in after work, all the grading and lesson prep and—”

“ _No_ ,” Les groaned. “We just did this at Thanksgiving, I don’t want to hear it again.”

Flicking water at him, he said, “Good, then make yourself useful and check the brisket.”

“Ha! I did bring that, can’t say I didn’t contribute.” Davey rolled his eyes as Les bent to open the oven door.  “S’just Sarah coming tonight, right?” Les asked, prodding the meat with a fork.

“Yeah, it’s always just the three of us last night, isn’t it?” Davey asked, confused.

“Well, it’s usually just the family on the first night, _isn’t it_?” Les shot back.

Furrowing his brow, Davey wondered what his brother was getting at. Sure, Chaya had come over, disrupting the routine some, but his family had all enjoyed her company, he thought. “I thought you liked Chaya. You said she was the only one since Race who could beat you at poker.”

Leaning against the counter, Les folded his arms and gave Davey a pointed look. “Yeah, I liked her. I thought _you_ liked her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before Les had a chance to answer, the front door to his apartment opened and Sarah called out, “Never fear, I am here, and I have _sufganiyots_ and _l_ _oukoumades_.”

“In here!” Les yelled back.

Sarah blew in, setting her covered platter on the table and shrugging out of her coat and beanie. “Sorry, I didn’t think they’d let me out of there again. You’d think they could shove some of that busy-work sorting on an intern, but _no_ , Sarah Jacobs is the _only one in the entire world_ who can do it properly.”

“Isn’t that what you said when you first started there as an intern?” Davey questioned.

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Not the point _, David_. I wasn’t even supposed to be at the photo shoot last Sunday, there wasn’t supposed to _be_ a photo shoot last Sunday. And apparently ‘Hanukkah dinner with my family’ holds no weight anymore.” She plopped down in a chair at his table. “You know, we were here first, _way_ before any of this Christmas business started.”

“I know,” Davey said sympathetically, squeezing her shoulder. It was usually just best to agree with her when she was on a roll like this. “Feels like we don’t see you enough as it is, we missed ya last week.”

“Yeah, an’ you missed Davey’s girlfriend,” Les said, popping a _loukoumade_ in his mouth.

“Wait, what?” Sarah reeled around to look at Davey, nearly falling out of her chair. “I know I’ve been gone awhile and missed Hanukkah dinner last week but a little heads up would’ve been _nice_ , Davey!”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Les is being a _schmendrik_ ,” Davey said, rolling his eyes. “She’s a friend from work and she couldn’t make it home for Hanukkah, so I invited her to ours.”

Ignoring him, Sarah turned to Les. “What’s she like?”

“Little shorter than you, long hair… oh! She’s a librarian at the high school—”

“—Smart?” she asked, interrupting him.

Les nodded. “Oh yeah. She even beat me at poker Sunday night. She’s great.”

“So…” Sarah turned to Davey. “Why is she not your girlfriend? Do you not like her?”

Davey sputtered a moment, not totally sure how the conversation turned to _this_.

“Okay, so that’s a yes.” Sarah looked back to Les. “Has he done anything about it?”

“No, they’re still just ‘friends’,” Les said, using air quotes.

She narrowed her eyes, puzzling out loud. “So, this is a girl he likes, invited to Hanukkah dinner, and still hasn’t done anything about it?”

“More or less.”

“I think I’m losing interest here,” Sarah said, laughing when Davey threw a dishtowel at her. “Seriously, Davey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he insisted.

“Is she married?”

“No.”

“On the lam?”

“What?!”

“She a secret agent undercover as a librarian in order to blow the top off some secret underground gang at the school?” Davey gave her a dry, disbelieving look. “What? You never know!”

“I think I can say with some confidence that there is no underground gang in my school,” Davey said drily.

Les considered that. “But you wouldn’t know for sure, unless  _you_ were a secret undercover agent…”

Waving a hand to cut him off, Davey said, “This could go on all night. I’m not a secret undercover agent, Chaya’s not a secret undercover agent, _no one_ is a secret agent, and there is no girlfriend.”

“Yes, but we’re trying to figure out _why_ , David,” Sarah said seriously, leaning her head on her hand to look up at him.

“Yes, David,” Les mimicked her. “Why?”

“ _Oy vey iz mir_ ,” Davey muttered. “Look, I don’t know how I feel ‘bout her, I don’t know how she feels ‘bout me, and that’s that, okay? Quit interrogatin’ me.”

He had his back to them, so he couldn’t see, but he knew they were doing that thing where they were having a silent conversation about him—he and Sarah may be the twins, but she and Les could communicate in a way he didn’t understand.

“One condition,” Sarah finally said.

Davey groaned. “What?”

“Gimme the _challah_ , I haven’t eaten all day.”

He rolled his eyes, but obliged, passing the basket to her. “Anythin’ to get you to stop yakkin’ my ear off.”

“It’s done, it’s done,” Sarah said, holding up three fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a scout,” Davey reminded her. “You couldn’t stop arguing with the den mother.”

“Yes, but I was always prepared,” she grinned, tearing her piece of bread to eat.

The kitchen was blissfully quiet for all of thirty seconds before Sarah spoke up again. “Yeah, okay that was bull. I gotta know—is she pretty?”

Davey dropped his head on the cupboard in front of him, groaning again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as homage to Sarah's work as a seamstress/laundress in the movie, I have her as working in fashion here. She's working her way up to being a designer, but for now she helps out at photo shoots, dressing the models and such.
> 
> ***
> 
> stress apparently helps me focus, I banged out the last 3/4 of the chapter in like an hour adfjkasdksl if only I could apply that to my history exam I have tomorrow...
> 
> I saw something about playing poker with gelts instead of money and that seemed like a fun idea to me--also, I love the thought of Les learning how to play poker from Race and it lowkey stresses Davey out, even when they're way into adulthood, and Chaya would have one hell of a poker face.
> 
> Happy Hanukkah!!! I hope the last eight days were wonderful and warm and full of love and good food (I've done a lot of research on traditional Hanukkah food, y'all got us beat, that looks SO GOOD)
> 
> as always, I'd love love love to know what you think!!!
> 
> xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Race attempts a new bedtime routine.

“ _Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere_.” Race closed the book, pushing his glasses up to sit on his head.

Brooklyn looked up at him from her bed, still looking wide-awake. “What’re g’night noises?”

Race sighed a little. They’d been trying new bedtime routines with Brooklyn and nothing seemed to be really working. It’d only been a week and Brooklyn was still having trouble getting to sleep. She was tired every night when they put her to bed, but in the morning, she'd inform them that she still couldn't sleep. 

They'd told her she could come get them when she couldn't sleep and they could help, but Brooklyn preferred to deal with it on her own. 

“Uhm…” he leaned back a little in the chair, thinking. “They’s… quiet, an’ stars twinklin’, an’—”

"But why do they gotta be quiet?" she asked.

He furrowed his brow. "Whaddaya mean, honey?"

"Goodnight noises are too quiet an' I don't like it," Brooklyn pouted.

"But if it's too loud, ya can't sleep, can you?" Race asked gently.

Brooklyn exhaled loudly. “But it was loud in my last room an’ I could sleep.”

“How loud was it?”

She looked frustrated, her sleepiness getting in the way of her explanations. "It wasn't  _loud_ , but it wasn't... too quiet."

Wracking his brain, Race tried to figure out her sleepy ramblings. Loud, but not too loud? Or too quiet? “Didja... sleep in a room with other kids in the group home?”

She nodded, eyes lighting up at his understanding. “Mm-hmm, with Gracie an’ Anna.”

Realization dawned on him and he leaned back in the chair a little. “So… you’ve never had a room to yourself?”

Brooklyn shrugged a little. “Don’t think so.”

Okay. This he could work with. She just had trouble falling asleep in a room by herself.

“How’s about… I sit wit’ ya a bit? ‘Til ya fall asleep? Maybe,” he added. “I could sing? So it ain’t so quiet in the room?”

Brooklyn thought about that a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah?” She nodded. “Okay,” he reached over to tuck her blanket around her shoulders, rubbing her back a little. “You close ya eyes, an’ I’ll sing a bit. We’ll see if that works.”

Nodding again, Brooklyn snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes.

Propping a foot up on the base of her bed, Race rocked gently a moment, humming nonsensically for a bit as he scrambled through a mental playlist before picking a song.

“ _Like a comet pulled from orbit… As it passes a sun…_ ”

Fifteen minutes—and _Wicked_ , _Into the Woods,_ and, _Les Mis_ —later, Brooklyn was asleep, but Race sat with her another half-hour, humming softly, to make sure she was stayed that way.

A hand in his hair caused him to open his eyes abruptly, sitting up in the chair, eyes darting around.

“‘Ay, s’just me,” Spot whispered, hand stroking his hair a little before sliding down to squeeze his shoulder. “Sorry, didn’t mean ta scare ya.”

Race shook his head, reaching up to squeeze Spot’s hand. “Nah, ya fine. Didn’t know I fell asleep.” Tipping his head back, he kissed his husband. 

Spot thumbed his cheek a little, pulling away softly. "Whaddaya doin' here?"

Sneaking a glance towards Brooklyn, who was still breathing deeply and evenly, Race jerked his head a little to the door. "Let's go out there."

Pulling on his hand, Spot pulled him out of the rocking chair so they could step out into the hallway.

“Why’s you sleepin’ in Brooklyn’s room?” Spot asked him as they pulled the door to behind them.

Bouncing on his toes, Race shrugged, smiling a little. “I think I... I _mighta_ hacked bedtime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me?? writing short, unedited puff chapters instead of studying for my exams because they stress me out?? 
> 
> it's more likely than you'd think.
> 
> xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Albert gets two surprise visitors.

“How’s we lookin’, Racer?” Albert asked, throwing a Nerf ball at the wall, letting it bounce against the wall next to Race’s head and catching it.

“You best not hit me, Bert, or ‘m gonna start skimmin’ off the top an’ me an’ Spotty an’ Brooklyn’ll run off an’ leave you hangin’,” Race said without looking up from the computer in front of him.

Albert shook his head, propping his bare feet in the chair next to him. “If ya do that, then we ain’t best friends no more.”

Race waved a hand. “Eh, I’d still have Spot, who’d you have?”

“I’ll still stick around, Al,” Jojo offered, overly cheerful. While good friends, he was just a touch too sunny for Albert even on the best days, and they all knew it.

Albert blanched slightly. “Racer, never leave me.”

Laughing, Race pushed his glasses up on his head and leaned away from the computer, arching his back. “Looks like ya good to hire on Specs f’r teachin’ after the new year, an’ be able ta finish the renovations in the back.”

“‘Ay, that’s great. Not too bad f’r us openin’ this year. An’ it’ll be good to add Specs after Christmas.”

“Got any plans for Christmas, Albert?” Jojo asked, reaching forward and grasping his toes in a stretch.

He shrugged. “James an’ Tom an’ me are goin’ ta our dad’s. Fabi an’ the kids too. Dad loves doin’ Santa f’r ‘em.”

“How’re Danny and Gabi?” Race asked.

“Still brats,” Albert laughed. “Can’t imagine dealin’ with kids.”

Jojo turned his head to look at him. “Maybe don’t let the parents know that,” he said flatly. “Considerin’ we teach ‘em six days a week.”

“I mean—” Al waved a hand. “Havin’ ya own kids. We send ‘em back at the end’a the day. Livin’ with ‘em?”

Race shrugged. “Ain’t so bad. S’kinda weird at first, when ya overly aware that someone’s always watchin’, but ya do that with Jack an’ Kath’s kids anyways.”

“Yeah, but you an’ Spotty an’ Kathy an’ Jack were made ta be parents. I couldn’t do it.”

“Well,” Race said. “‘Less you’s plannin’ on makin’ any big life changes, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it there, Al.”

Albert shrugged. “True. What ‘bout you, Jojo?”

“Me an’ Buttons an’ Angel’s goin’ to see her family down in Puerto Rico for a few days before Christmas, back here for Christmas Eve an’ Midnight Mass with my family, an’ Christmas Day with Ben’s dad.”

“S’lotta family, Jojo,” Race laughed. “First Christmas with all three families?”

Jojo grinned. “Yeah, it’ll be interestin’, seein’ if this all works out. Should be fun, though, we haven’t done big family holidays ever—”

The door opened then, interrupting him, and the three men turned to see Marissa strut in.

Albert lowered his feet from the chair. “Hey, Marissa,” he said slowly. “What’cha doin’ here?” He honestly hadn’t known she knew where the studio was, she’d never saw him at work.

She looked uncomfortable and out-of-place in her stilettos-skirt-button down combination while the three of them were in sweats in preparation for their after-school classes.

“I just wanted to ask… Next week, I have an office Christmas party and it was made clear to me that I should have a date in attendance. So.” She looked at him expectantly.

“Ya… want me ta go to this Christmas party?” he asked.

Nodding curtly, she said, “Yes, thank you. I’ll text you the details later.” With that, Marissa turned and walked out the door.

“She seems…” Jojo trailed off, twisting his face a little as he thought. “Uhm.”

Al shook his head. “Ya don’t gotta finish that sentence, don’t hurt yaself, kid.”

“Yikes,” Race said, wincing. “If Jojo can’t even come up with somethin’ nice ta say…”

“She has very nice… clothes?” Jojo tried.

Waving a hand, Albert said, “Really. Ya don’t hafta try. She’s rough ‘round the edges.”

“Thought you two didn’t do the ‘datin’’ thing,” Race said, leaning against the front counter. “Christmas party seems kinda datin’-like doesn’t it?”

“Did I even agree to that?” Albert asked, pulling off his hat and smoothing down his hair. “I never actually said anythin’ did I?”

Jojo shrugged. “Could be fun?”

Albert threw the ball at Jojo, who caught it and tossed it to Race as the door opened once more.

Their second visitor of the afternoon was just as much a surprise as the first.

“Heya Davey. How’s the youth of tomorrow?” Race teased.

“Ready for Winter Break, which cannot come fast enough.” Davey said drily.

“What brings ya ‘round our parts?” Race asked.

“Ya here for dance lessons?” Jojo teased lightly.

“I charge extra f’r two left feet an’ the fact that you’s thirty-four an’ this is a kid’s studio,” Al joked, tipping his chair back on two legs.

Davey scratched at the back of his head a little awkwardly. “Actually, Albert, I wanted to ask you something… I need advice.”

Race, Jojo, and Albert fell into stunned silence a moment, Al’s chair crashing back to the ground.

“From _Al_?” Race asked, shocked.

Albert looked just as stricken, blinking a moment before saying, “Honestly, Jacobs, I didn’t think this day could get fuckin’ weirder. C’mon, we can go back ta the break room.”

He led Davey back to the lounge that wasn’t really more than a couple of folding chairs and an empty cooler.

Plopping down in one chair, Albert nudged the other chair towards Davey.  “Cop a squat. What’cha need? What’s somethin’ I could help ya with?” He thought about it a second. “Dancin’? That’s ‘bout all I got.”

Davey sat across from him, fidgeting a little awkwardly. “It’s about… a girl, actually.”

“Whoa, Davey.” Albert sat up, waving his hands. “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout feelin’s an’ shit f’r girls or anythin’, ya want Jack or Jojo or even Spot’s better’n me—”

“No, it’s you I need to talk to.” Davey exhaled loudly. “Okay. I’ll just tell you. I’ve never felt any kind of romantic feelings or anythin’ towards anyone. And it wasn’t anythin’ that bothered me, I just… kind of assumed I was aro-ace, but now I think… I don’t know.”

“Ya think ya like this girl?” Albert wasn’t too good with advice but Davey was looking all anxious and rolling a pen between his hands nervously and he wasn’t made of _stone_.

Davey shrugged helplessly. “Maybe? How can I know if I haven’t felt it before?”

Albert scrubbed a hand down his face. “Okay, Davey. I think ya thinkin’ too much ‘bout this. What is it ya feel when ya around this girl—?”

“Chaya,” Davey supplied.

“Chaya, then. Don’t think, just tell me, what’s it feel like?”

Floundering a moment, Davey finally said, “I… there’s a kinda warm, fizzy feeling in my stomach? And my chest feels a little tight. But not in a bad way? It’s weird.”

Albert shrugged. “See that, for me, is triggered by a couple’a burritos an’ hot sauce, not some girl. So either you gots really bad heartburn, or you prob’ly really like this girl.”

Davey blinked. “That’s your advice?” he asked hesitantly.

“That, or a hell of a lot of antacid,” Albert said sagely.

Nodding slowly, Davey said, “Thanks. I think. This was… mostly helpful.”

“You just sayin’ that to be polite?”

“Little bit, yeah.” Davey stood. “But I really do appreciate it, Albert. Thanks.”

Standing as well, Al shook his hand. “No problem, Dave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, Al tried at least? 
> 
> I have—amazingly—survived finals!! sorry to have thrown the updates off, but I’m hoping to get caught up between today and tomorrow. Thank you all for being so patient and understanding!!
> 
> I’d love to know your thoughts!
> 
> xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Kellys join Medda in giving back.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Kellys!” Medda said as she saw them approach.

Lucy broke away immediately to run up to her. “Hi, Miss Medda!”

“Hello, Lucille!” Medda stooped to accept Lucy’s hug. “How are ya, honey?”

“‘m good! An’ look!” She opened her mouth, wiggling her loose tooth with her tongue. “I gotta ‘nother loose tooth!”

“Lookit that, you sure do.” Leaning down to see a little better, Medda cupped her chin a moment. “How many does that make?”

“Five!” Lucy spread her hand. “Just like me!”

“My word, you sure are gettin’ big, Miss Lucille. Soon ‘nough, you’re gonna be all grown up and then what are we gonna do with you?”

“Ohh, don’t be giving her ideas, Medda,” Katherine laughed, finally catching up with Lucy. “She’s already growing up too fast for me.”

Medda hugged her. “A mother’s woe, sugar. You shoulda seen Jack. One minute he’s nine and followin’ me all over the theaters and the next he’s sixteen and I’m catchin’ him sneaking in at two in the morning.”

“In all fairness,” Jack defended himself. “That was on a dare. And I think I learned my lesson— _never_ try lyin’ to Medda. ‘Member that kids,” he jokingly warned. “She c’n always tell.”

“That’s what _I_ said,” a new voice said. “But you an’ Spotty had to try ya luck instead.” They turned to see Crutchie and Bella having just approached their little group.

“Hi, Uncle Charlie!” Corey said excitedly, hugging him around his waist. Unfortunately, the momentum was unexpected, and the sidewalk icy, causing Crutchie’s elbow crutches to slip.

“ _Whoa_!”

Jack managed to move quickly enough to catch Crutchie around the waist, and Bella hopped to her feet, ready in case her human needed her, while Katherine gently steered Corey out of the way.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Charlie!” Corey said anxiously, eyes wide, as Jack helped Crutchie upright. “I didn’t mean to make ya fall!”

“You’s okay, Corey,” Crutchie gave him a reassuring smile. “Just gotta be a lil extra careful when it's so slippery. Why don’t we go inside, an’ I’ll give ya a proper hug, okay?”

Corey nodded a little hesitantly, and Medda quickly herded them inside with a "It's too cold to be standin' out here anyways! Let's go in where it's warm."

"My Southern blood can't handle this cold—and they're sayin' it's supposed to snow this weekend." Medda shook her head, leading them into the theater lobby.

Pete furrowed his brow. "What's Southern blood, Miss Medda? I never heard of that."

She smiled. "Oh, honey, it just means I was born someplace much,  _much_ , warmer than here. A place called Louisiana."

"How didja get to here?" Lucy asked. "Didja fly on a plane?"

"No, honey, I rode in on a bus."

Lucy poked her lip out. "Oh. Mama's gonna fly on a plane tomorrow."

"She is?" Medda asked, looking over to Katherine, who nodded.

"Yeah, Darcy and I have to fly out to Chicago, meet up with a source," Katherine explained. 

Medda winced. "Oh, so close to Christmas, though?" 

"She's gonna be gone  _forever_ ," Lucy whined, pulling on Katherine's hand a little.

Rubbing a thumb over her hand, Katherine reminded her gently, "Just one day, Luce, not forever."

" _Feels_ like forever."

Jack let out a low whistle as they entered the lobby. "Wow, Medda. Sure looks festive 'round here."  Every year, she opened her theater to the community with a big dinner and Medda, being Medda, always went all out with decorations, and this year was no exception.

"Yeah," Crutchie said, lowering himself in a chair and letting Corey practically climb on him to give him a hug. "You get some'a Santa's elves in here ta dec'rate?"

Corey whipped his head around to look at Medda. "Miss Medda, you know  _Santa_?"

Medda winked mysteriously. "Maybe I do."

Pete scuffed the carpet with his shoe, looking a little pensive.

"Anythin' else we need ta help ya set up, Medda?" Jack asked, laying a hand on Pete's back.

She waved a hand. "Oh, no, honey. We already have everythin' up. But the food will be here in twenty minutes, then I'll need help gettin' it set up."

"Uncle Charlie, can we go play with Bella in the theater?" Lucy asked, grasping his arm.

"Ah..." Crutchie tilted his head a little. "Know what? How 'bout I let'cha play with her in a li'l bit, okay? She's workin' now."

"Okay!" Lucy chirped, grabbing Corey's hand and pulling him towards the theater. "C'mon, Corey! Let's play hide-and-seek!"

"Don't go backstage!" Katherine called after them.

"We won't!" Corey yelled back, snagging Pete's coat sleeve as they ran past to drag him into the theater.

"Where're Sean and Anthony?" Medda asked. 

"Racer's workin' late an' Spot thought this might be too big'a thing f'r Brooklyn," Jack explained.

"Oh, right," Medda nodded. "How's havin' Brooklyn goin' for them? I haven't seen them since that first weekend."

"S'bout the last time I saw them," Crutchie said, scratching Bella's head. 

Jack and Katherine exchanged a look. "Really good," Katherine said. "They've really settled into fatherhood."

"Yeah, they're even tryin' ta give Brooklyn 'the best Christmas'," Jack added.

"Best Christmas? Little ambitious, don't'cha think?" Medda asked.

Jack shrugged. "Maybe. They's gonna be in f'r it next year, when they think they gotta top this year."

Katherine looked up at him. "You think they'll have Brooklyn in a year?"

"I was with Medda f'r ten years," Jack pointed out. "Crutchie was wit' her, what? Seven, eight, years?"

Crutchie shrugged, laughing. "Like I can remember. Medda, what was it?"

Medda wasn't paying attention, suddenly studying the decorations in the front lobby.

"Medda, ya alright?" Jack asked, approaching her. 

She waved a hand, "Oh, I'm fine, honey. I was just wonderin' if this was too much. Did I go overboard?"

"You? Overboard? Impossible," Jack scoffed. "S'nice that ya do this every year," he added, leaning on her shoulder a little. 

"Mm." Medda hooked an arm around his shoulders, hugging him. "Remember doin' this when you were younger?"

He nodded. "Yeah, ever since that first Christmas I came ta live with ya. We ate at a shelter couple'a nights afta I came."

"Wasn't a great first Christmas, was it?" She twisted her face a little.

"Nah, weren't bad. Hard, since Mom an' Dad died, but not bad." It'd been twenty-five years and the details were a little fuzzy, but Jack remembered Christmases with Medda always being warm and bright and never lacking in love.

"I must'a done something right," Medda said, smoothing a hand down his back. "You an' Charlie turned out alright, I think."

Jack leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You did _great_ , Medda." 

 

~*~

 

Opening the door, Jack let Katherine go in with Lucy, asleep on her hip, before him and the boys.

"Okay," he said quietly as Katherine took Lucy to her room. "Corey, you an' Pete need ta go on and get ready for bed."

"But  _Dad_ —" Corey tipped his head back against his stomach.

Jack squeezed his shoulders. "Ah. Ya got school in the mornin', an' tomorrow's ya sleepover under the tree 'member?"

Corey lit up. "Oh yeah! Okay!"

Kissing the top of his head, Jack clapped him on the shoulder, pushing him a little towards the hallway. "Go on, go brush ya teeth."

Scurrying down the hallway, Corey disappeared around the corner, leaving Jack and Pete in the living room. Shrugging out of his coat, Jack hung it up in the front closet. "Ya have fun tonight, Pete?"

He shrugged a little, pulling off his beanie. "Yeah, actually."

"Actually?" Jack teased. "Didn't think ya would?"

Pete shrugged again. "Dad?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Why are Uncle Sean an' Uncle Tony tryin' to give Brooklyn the best Christmas?" Jack furrowed his brow, trying to remember when he'd mentioned anything like that to the kids. "I heard you say it to Miss Medda," Pete added.

"Oh, well, Brooklyn hasn't really had a Christmas like you an' ya brother an' sister, movin' 'round so much, so they wanna give her a really good Christmas in case she has to move again."

"A Christmas with... good memories?" Pete asked slowly, echoing what Jack had told him the week prior.

Nodding, Jack said, "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Pete nodded as well, thinking about it a moment, and Jack took that moment to wonder how all three of their kids managed to look exactly like Katherine when they were working something out. 

"Okay," Pete said, interrupting his thoughts. "Night, Dad." 

He passed Katherine in the hallway, who ruffled his hair a little. Unbuttoning her coat, she kissed Jack's cheek as she brushed past him to hang it up in the closet behind him. "Lucy woke up long enough to change into pajamas and demand Daddy come say goodnight to her. Is Pete okay?"

Jack slid an arm around her waist, hugging her. "Yeah he's fine—actually remembered somethin' I said durin' our talk 'bout Christmas. Think I mighta said somethin' that stuck."

"Hey, that's great." She stood on her toes to kiss his jaw. "Told you he'd listen."

Shaking his head, Jack smoothed his hands down her back. "I know, I know. I should listen to SuperMom more often."

"Yes you should," Katherine teased, kissing him properly.

A little voice interrupted them. " _Daddy_ , you gotta come say g'night to me."

Chuckling a little, Jack pulled away from Katherine to see Lucy standing at the end of the hallway in her pajamas, arms crossed over her chest. "You're right, Pumpkin," Jack said, squeezing Katherine's hip as he crossed the room to Lucy. "I dunno what I was thinkin'."

"You  _weren't_ ," she pouted sleepily, raising her arms up for him to carry her. He shook his head as he lifted her up and carried her to her room and tuck her in. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know your thoughts!!
> 
> xx


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack has the kids for the night.

The credits for  _Elf_  rolled and Jack muted the television, stretching on the couch and looking at his three wide-awake children. He had the kids by himself for the night while Kath was in Chicago and they were spending the night under the tree.

"Can we watch another movie, Daddy?  _Please_?" Lucy asked, propping her elbows up on the edge of the couch and tucking her hands under her chin in a pleading fashion.

Checking the time on his phone, Jack said, "Ah, honey, it's gettin' late. Think it's time the three'a ya should be gettin' to sleep."

"We're gonna stay up  _forever_!" Corey declared, laughing as he fell back on his sleeping bag.

Pete flipped a page in his book. "You say that  _every_ year."

"This year, we're gonna do it!" Lucy giggled, flopping backwards so she was laying across his back.

"Hey!" he laughed, wiggling and trying to knock her off. "Get off, Lucy!"

"No!" she cried, laughing. "Put'cha book 'way, Petey, play with me an' Corey!"

Jack laughed. "Ya need ta be goin' to  _sleep_ , honey, not playin' with ya brothers."

" _Ten_ more minutes, Daddy?" Lucy pouted at him.

Pretending to think about it a moment, Jack relented. "Okay,  _ten_ minutes, but then you three's gotta get to bed so we can get up an' meet Mama at the airport, alright?"

"Yay!" Lucy squealed, rolling off Pete. "Let's play Explodin' Kittens!"

Jack stood, picking up the bowls of popcorn and candy to take them to the kitchen while the kids pulled out the cards to play. He cleaned up the kitchen and around the couch a bit—almost definitely giving them more than ten minutes—before taking the cards and telling the kids it was really time for bed.

"But—" Lucy tried again.

"Nope," he said firmly. "C'mon, let's get under the covers here. An' we'll turn the lights off an' ya can look at the tree all night 'til ya fall asleep, okay?" He flicked off the overhead light before they could try to negotiate for more time, bathing the room in a soft glow. 

She pouted, but held out her arms for a hug. 

Hugging Lucy to his chest, Jack said, “Goodnight, baby girl, love ya,” and set her back down in her nest of blankets and stuffed animals.

“Mmm, night Daddy,” she sighed, burrowing into her pillow.

He kissed the top of her head, stroking a hand through her hair before leaning over towards Corey, who was sprawled out on his sleeping bag, clutching his stuffed monkey in one hand. Rubbing the back of his hand, Jack asked, "Ya ready to go to sleep, Bug?" 

Corey grinned and shook his head. "Nope."

Jack shook his head, smiling a little. "Well, why don't'cha close ya eyes an' try real hard, okay?"

Sighing dramatically, Corey threw an arm over his eyes. " _Fine_ ," he said. 

Squeezing the hand in his, Jack said, "Love ya, Bug."

"Love ya, too, Dad," he muttered, not moving his arm.

Looking over to Pete, Jack saw his oldest still reading by the light of the Christmas tree. "Don't stay up too late readin', alright?"

"Okay, Dad," he said, turning the page. 

"Love ya, Pete."

Looking up from his book briefly, Pete said, "You too, Dad."

Standing—and  _not_ wincing as his knees definitely popped—Jack moved to the kitchen table, where he'd set up his laptop and some stuff for work. He could just barely see over the couch to where the kids were all under the tree, but he figured he could sit there a bit until they actually fell asleep.

Because, knowing his kids, they'd do their best to stay awake all night, talking and giggling.

So he sat in the kitchen, finishing his layout, catching snippets of whispered conversations between Corey and Lucy, and shushes from Pete, the only one who'd noticed Jack was within earshot, when they got too loud, and Jack just had to shake his head and laugh softly at his kids, glad they had each other and so thankful he was somehow lucky enough to give them this life.

He blinked, and suddenly it was an hour later, and the living room was quiet. Putting his laptop to sleep, Jack stood quietly and peeked over the couch, surprised that the three of them were actually asleep—even Pete had fallen asleep, head down on his book instead of his pillow. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he took a picture of the kids to send to Katherine.

_Jack: all three kids down in an hour. hate to brag but i’m awesome_

_*Ace <3 loved an image*_

_Ace <3: Super dad to the rescue!_

_Jack: be better if super mom were here too_

_Ace <3: Tomorrow, baby._

 

~*~

 

Jack woke suddenly, a weight slamming into his chest. It took him a second, but he sat up, gathering Lucy in his arms, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“‘Ay, ‘ay, Lucy, honey, what’s wrong?”

Between sobs and gasps, Lucy managed to get out something about a nightmare. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was about, her words kept running together, but he gathered enough to know it had to do with her drowning maybe? She may have said clown; he wasn’t sure.

“Okay, sweetheart, you're fine, s'just a dream, ya safe now. Ya wanna stay with me—?”

“ _No_! I want _Mama_!” Lucy sobbed.

“Okay, okay.” He reached for his phone on the nightstand, forgoing the unlocking process, simply activating Siri with, “Call Ace.”

The phone rang as he rubbed Lucy’s back. “C’mon Kath, pick up…”

The line clicked, and Katherine’s voice, rough with sleep, answered. “ _Hello?_ ”

“Mama!” Lucy scrambled for Jack’s phone, and he had to hold her down a moment.

“‘Ay, just a sec, okay, honey? Kath, gimme a sec, ‘m puttin’ ya on speaker, okay?”

“ _Yeah, go ahead_.”

Jack brought his phone from his ear to hit the speaker button on the screen. "Okay, Lucy, here's Mama."

"Mama!" Lucy hiccuped, rubbing her eyes with her fists.

" _Hey, baby, are you okay?_ "

"Mama I had a _really scary_ dream!" she wailed, taking Jack's phone from him.

" _Did you?_ " Katherine asked, and Jack could hear her moving, probably so she wouldn't wake Darcy up. " _I'm sorry about_ _that, honey. Do you want to tell me about it?_ " 

Lucy shook her head. "No, Mama. Wanna story."

" _Okay_ ," Katherine barely stifled a yawn. " _Which story do you want_?"

"One'a your stories, Mama." Sometimes, when a typical picture book couldn't get Lucy to sleep, Katherine made up a little stories to tell her.

" _Alright, let me think... Did I ever tell you the one about the reporter and the newsboy?_ "

"Uh-uh."

" _Once upon a_ _time,_ " Katherine began without missing a beat. _"There was a young newsboy who had a dream bigger than the whole moon..._ "

Jack curled an arm around Lucy, letting her lean back against him as they listened to Katherine tell her story. 

He lost track of time, nearly dozed off at one point, but then he heard Katherine say, " _—and they lived happily ever after._ " Jack opened his eyes and Katherine asked quietly, " _Is she asleep?"_

“Mama?” Lucy asked, sleepy and timid, before Jack could answer.

“ _What’s up, buttercup?_ ”

“Are ya gonna be home for Christmas?”

“ _Oh,_ _of course, honey. Mama and Darcy will be home tomorrow, and you can tell me all the fun you had, sleeping under the Christmas tree, okay?_ ”

"Okay," Lucy nodded, her grip slackening on Jack's phone. 

" _Think you can sleep now?_ " Katherine asked.

Lucy sighed, a soft, "Mm-hmm," dropping her head on Jack's chest. 

Taking the phone gently from her, Jack switched the phone off speaker and brought it back to his ear. "SuperMom saves the day again," he chuckled softly.

" _Did she say what her nightmare was_ _about_?" Katherine asked, and he could hear her settling back into bed.

"It was def'nitely either clowns or drownin'."

Katherine chuckled tiredly. " _That's fair, clowns are terrifying._ "

"True." Jack rubbed Lucy's back slowly. "Alright, SuperMom, I'll let'cha go back ta sleep, I know ya got an early flight. Lucy just really wanted ya t'night."

" _No, it's_ _—"_ Katherine yawned. _"—it's fine. I'm glad she's back asleep now. Is she staying with you_ _?"_

"Nah, she's pretty well asleep," Jack said. "An' she'll hate it if she don't wake up under the tree. I'll take her back in a bit. We'll see ya tomorrow, then, Ace?"

She sighed sleepily. " _Yeah. Tomorrow. Love you."_

"Love ya more.'

" _Mm. '_ _mpossible."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a day?? :OOO s l o w l y catching up!!!
> 
> if I'm honest, there's really no point of the second half of the chapter but I liked it so it stayed XD
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!!!
> 
> xx


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it snows, causing problems.

Jack woke up to a faint buzzing about half an hour before his alarm was supposed to go off.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he reached for the phones blindly with his other hand, eyes cracking open slightly to read the text on his screen. 

_Ace <3: Flight delayed until at least noon. Snow in Chicago and New York_.

"Snow?" Jack rasped, the word sticking in his dry throat. Untangling from the covers, he padded down the hallway quietly past the kids to peer out the window in the living room.

Sure enough, a blanket of snow had covered their street overnight.

"Huh," Jack said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Snow."

"Daddy?" a sleepy voice asked behind him. 

He turned to see Lucy, looking much better having not been woken up by a nightmare, sleep-rumpled and missing a sock.

"Hey, baby. Didja sleep good?"

Instead of answering, Lucy tugged on the hem of his shirt, standing on his feet in an attempt to climb into his arms.

Lifting her up, he turned back towards the window. "Lookit that, Lucy-Goose. It snowed."

She sighed, leaning her head against his. "S'pretty."

"Yeah it is, baby." He kissed her cheek.

"S'it time to get Mama now?" she asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Nah, not yet. Mama's plane's gonna be a lil late." Jack turned to carry her back to the couch. "S'still early, ya wanna sleep some more?"

She was already nodding off on his shoulder. "Okay..."

He sat on the couch, stretching out his legs so that Lucy was lying on his chest. Corey stirred, turning his head towards them. Without a word, he grasped the edge of the couch, hauling himself up and curling up between the back of the couch and Jack. 

Maneuvering his arm from where it'd been trapped by Corey, Jack got his phone back out to text Katherine back.

_Jack: kidsll love it when they wake up_

_Jack: let us know when you do take off_

 

~*~

 

Spot padded into the kitchen, scrolling through emails on his phone, stopping when he saw Brooklyn stretched out on the couch, petting Miss Cuddlekinz. 

"Hey, Brooklyn. Ya been up long?" he asked, redirecting so he went into the living room, sitting on the other end of the couch.

She shook her head. "No," she said, stroking a hand down the cat's back.

He scratched behind Miss C's ears. "Ya know, Miss Cuddlekinz don't like too many people. Her sittin' real still like that means she likes ya."

Brooklyn lit up, smiling. "She likes me?"

"Oh, yeah. Lots'a times, she hisses and tries to scratch 'em. She don't sit like this." In truth, their cat just didn't like Race, much to his dismay.

"Why's she gotta a funny name?" Brooklyn asked, giggling a little as Miss Cuddlekinz licked her hand.

Spot shook his head. "Tony thought it'd be a good name for cat. What'cha think?"

She thought about it a moment. "Mm. It's okay."

"Yeah? What wouldja name a cat?"

"Uhm... Fluffy!"

Spot considered that. "Fluffy's a good name, but what if the cat ain't fluffy?"

"Hm." Brooklyn stroked Miss Cuddlekinz's back. "I think I'd name it... Pete!"

He snorted. "Like Pete Kelly?"

" _No_ ," she giggled. "Like Pete the Cat! S'my favorite book at school!"

"Really?" he asked. She nodded. "S'a good name f'r a cat, Brooklyn. If Tony ever tricks me into gettin' another cat, we'll let'cha name it, how's that sound?"

Brooklyn grinned excitedly. "Sounds good!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, ya know what sounds good to me right now?" he asked. She shook her head. "Breakfast. Whaddaya think, toast an' eggs or cereal?"

As Brooklyn thought about that, Spot's phone buzzed.

_JackAss: hey it snowed. you racer and B wanna go sledding with me and kids?_

 

~*~

 

"Alright, girlies, ya ready?"

"Let's  _go_ , Daddy!" Lucy cried, throwing her gloved fist in the air. 

Brooklyn nodded, the pom-pom on her beanie bouncing wildly. "Yeah!"

"Okay," Jack said, bracing his hands on the back of the sled. "One... two... three!" He gave them a good shove, sending them flying down the little hill they'd found.

Twin giggly shrieks pierced the air as they took off, the back of the sled swinging wide. 

"Steer, Luce!" Jack yelled after them. 

"Jackie, she's  _five_ , what's she know 'bout steerin'?" Race laughed.

"Really question's she's  _your_ kid, what's she know 'bout steerin'?" Spot asked. "You's terrible."

Jack rolled his eyes. "I resent the impl'cation that 'm worse than Racer. Kid's thirty-three, can't even drive."

"We live in  _New York_! I can just take the subway!" Race protested. 

Before he could answer, Brooklyn interrupted with another shriek as the sled spun sideways and she toppled off, rolling in the snow.

Spot and Race both reacted, ready to check on her, when she popped up, laughing and shaking snow from her thick curls. "That was  _so fun_! Lucy, c'mon, we gotta go again!"

"No it's  _our_ turn!" Corey said from the top of the hill.

"That was great, girls!" Race called. "Ten outta ten! Bring the sled back up an' we'll see if the boys can beat that!”

"Oh, we will," Pete declared, bouncing on his toes.

“Great, Uncle Tony, now you've started a contest," Jack laughed. "Ya know Pete can't resist competition, he's too much like—" His phone rang, and he pulled it out to see Katherine's contact picture on his screen. "Speak'a the devil. Gimme a sec, it’s Kath.” He stepped away from them to take the call. “Heya Ace, what’s up? Ya at the airport?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she sighed, and he recognized it immediately as her “sick-and-tired-of-dealing-with-people-and-someone's-about-to-get-a-piece-of-my-mind” sigh. “ _But it doesn’t look… great_.”

“Havin’ trouble at O’Hare?”

“ _That’s an understatement_.” Katherine sighed again, and Jack could hear the bustle of the airport around her. “ _Weather here and weather in New York… Darcy and I are trying to figure out how to get home._ ”

Jack tucked on hand in the pocket of his coat. "How bad is it? Stopped snowin' here, an' we ain't s'posed ta get more for a few days, I think."

" _Bad enough they're thinking about actually closing the airport._ "

"That's...bad," Jack admitted. 

" _Yeah,_ " Katherine said, a little shortly. " _Darcy's taking a turn talking to them now._ "

“Well, let Darcy deal with the airlines, okay?”

“ _What is that supposed to mean?_ ”

“It means sometimes ya get a little… scrunchy an’ loud when you’re stressed. Darcy’s just…”

“ _Just_ what _?_ ” Jack knew she wasn't mad at him or anything, just annoyed in general, but he should probably step lightly.

“…So lucky that he’s in Chicago with you, babe,” he finished cheerily. 

" _Nice save,_ " she said drily. " _How are the kids?_ "

"They're great, lovin' the snow, sleddin' with Brooklyn an' Spot an' Racer. Gonna get cocoa after. What should I tell 'em 'bout you?"

" _Tell them... I don't know, tell them I'm be home as soon as I can?_ " Katherine sighed again, and he could picture her in a plastic airport chair, elbow bent on her knee, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to keep her emotions at bay. " _Maybe even before Christmas_." 

"Hey, it's okay, hon," Jack reassured her. "We'll figure out. Get'cha home  _way_ before Christmas, alright? Keep me updated an' I'll do what I c'n on this end."

She let out a shaky breath. " _Thanks babe. Hug the kids for me_?"

“‘Course I will. Love ya.”

“ _Love you too. I’ll be home soon.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to Pigeon who definitely guessed that something would happen with Katherine by me sending her to Chicago so close to Christmas...
> 
> though are we really surprised?? ;)
> 
> Pete the Cat are real books and I have the distinct memory of my high school freshman Civics teacher reading one of them to us on the first day of class, along with _Oh, the Places You'll Go!_... which may just be a weird public school thing, I don't know...
> 
> as always, I'd love to know what you think!!
> 
> xx


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a very important picture is taken

Brooklyn held each of their hands, skipping between them as they walked into Macy's, almost stopping immediately inside to marvel at the decorations.

"Whoa... It's even more beautifuller than the house!" she said, looking around.

Race squeezed her hand, laughing. "Well, me an' Sean's new ta dec'ratin'. Macy's gots professionals."

"Yeah," Spot said. "They got Santa here, an' he brings his elves ta help decorate. Me an' Tony had ta do it all by ourselves."

Brooklyn lit up at the mention of Santa. "Santa! Is it time ta go see him?" she asked, practically vibrating. 

"Of course!" Race said. "We just gotta get upstairs. Ya ready ta make the journey Brooklyn?"

"Yeah!"

They listened to Brooklyn chatter about sledding the day before and about the different decorations they passed and about how she was excited to meet Santa as they made their way up to the famous SantaLand.

"Know what'cha gonna ask Santa for, Brooklyn?" Spot asked. They'd been trying to get hints at to what Brooklyn wanted for Christmas—they hadn't gotten anything out of her about her letter and she wasn't really one for talking about what she wanted. Other than the  _Pete the Cat_ books she mentioned were her favorite, they had no clue.

She nodded, her long pigtails bouncing against her shoulders. "Yep!"

"What'cha gonna ask for?"

"I can't  _tell_ you, Sean!" Brooklyn giggled. "S'against the  _rules_."

Spot and Race exchanged a look over her head.  _Rules?_ Race mouthed at him.

"What rules, Brooklyn?" Race asked.

She shrugged. "I dunno. But'cha not s'posed to say, right? Ya just tell Santa, right?"

Spot wasn't sure how to answer. "Uhm. Well, you c'n tell both us an' Santa. 'Cause sometimes Santa needs a lil help gettin' presents to kids, so he lets the grown ups do it."

"Oh. Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah!"

She was quiet for a moment, and Spot thought she might finally reveal something.

"What's that?" Brooklyn asked instead, pointing. "Looks like what Kath'rine's got on her bookshelf!"

Race followed her eyeline to see the giant snow globe display set up. "Yeah, s'a snow globe."

"Yeah! An' ya shake it an' it snows inside!"

He grinned at her. "That's right! An' this one, you can stand inside it an' it looks like it's snowin' 'round you."

Brooklyn's jaw dropped as her eyes got wide. " _Cool_!"

"Wanna try it?" Spot asked. "I can get a picture'a you an' Tony up there."

She nodded, bouncing on her toes. "Yeah! C'mon, Tony!"

Race laughed as Brooklyn dragged him to the display. Spot smiled a little too, pulling out his phone to open the camera. 

"Uhm, 'scuse me?" He jerked a little, surprised, and turned to see a younger girl, maybe college-age, who smiled. "I can take the picture, if you want to go stand up there with your family." 

Spot was so stunned by the word 'family' he didn't have it in him to be suspicious of her. "Uh, yeah. Thanks." He handed his phone over and went to stand in the snow globe with Race and Brooklyn.

"Sean, ya gonna take a picture with us?" Brooklyn asked, pulling on his hand excitedly when he got near.

"Yeah," he laughed. "Someone's gonna take our picture f'r us."

"Yay!" She dragged them into the globe so they could pose. The girl outside gave them a thumbs up after she took the picture.

"I took a couple for you," she said, as they went back on the floor, handing Spot his phone back.

He flicked through the pictures, smiling at them. "Thanks. 'ppreciate it."

"Yeah, of course," she said, waving a hand. With a smile to Race and Brooklyn, she left. 

"Lookit that," Race said. "There's still helpful people, even in New York."

"I liked her hat!" Brooklyn said, looking up at him. 

He smiled, tugging on the string of the earflap on her hat. "Yeah? Should we get'cha one like it?"

"Mm..." she tilted her head, thinking. "Nah. I like my owl."

"I like it too. C'mon, ya ready to see Santa?"

"Yeah!" She started to drag him away, but he stopped when he noticed Spot wasn't following them. 

"Ya comin' Sean?" Race asked.

Spot looked up from his phone to see his husband looking at him curiously. "Uh, yeah, 'm comin'."

"Tony, I thought Santa only left the North Pole on Christmas Eve?" Brooklyn asked, capturing Race's attention again. "How'd he get here now?"

"Well, see, we're actually gonna see Santa's  _brother_ , Saint Nic...olai. He lives in the North Pole too, and he makes the visits for Santa to see the kids..."

Looking at the picture one more time, Spot started to put it in a text to Race.

_*Spot has sent an image*_

_Spot: look at that we finally gotta xmas family pic..._

The blue send arrow stared at him mockingly a moment, before Brooklyn turned around and said impatiently, " _Sean_ , c'mon! Time ta see Santa!"

"Yeah, alright, I'm comin'!" Deleting the message quickly, Spot jogged to catch up with them, snagging Race's free hand to walk with them to SantaLand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god I did it, I caught up... asdfkjhsdkfjssdf
> 
> back to our regularly scheduled posting! ;)
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!!
> 
> xx


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we check in on Katherine and Darcy, still in Chicago

“Kath, stop pacing,” Darcy groaned, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “It’s making me dizzy _and_ nervous.”

“Nonono please don’t transfer me again!” Katherine said, sitting down on the edge of the bed— _not_ because Darcy told her to stop pacing, but she was starting to get dizzy too. “ _Please_ , we had a flight back to New York on Saturday and it was cancelled and—Hello?” She pulled the phone away from her ear to look at the screen before looking at Darcy in shock.

“I think they hung up on me!” She tossed the phone on the nightstand and stood to start pacing again.

Darcy reached for his phone. “Want me to try?”

“They’ll probably just hang up on you, too,” she muttered, rolling her neck. “But yeah, try, you get better answers than me. Jack was right… I hate it when he’s right.”

He chuckled. “Don’t we all?”

Katherine kept pacing the length of the hotel room. “I’m just saying, my children better not ever move to Chicago because I’m not dealing with O’Hare ever again,” she said firmly.

Darcy looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. “Katherine. Your oldest isn’t even ten yet. Pretty likely he’s not planning to move anytime soon.”

“Yeah, but.” Katherine resisted the prepubescent urge to stamp her foot and whine. “They’re growing up and, before I know it, they _will_ be old enough to move out. And it better not be _Chicago_!”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Darcy put down his phone, catching her wrist as she past him, pulling her on the bed next to him.

“Okay, what’s going on? We’ve gone away for work before but this is… a whole new level from you.” They’d gone on hundreds of business trips together over the last decade, but he’d never seen her quite so upset.

“I don’t know, it’s just,” she shrugged helplessly. “It’s Christmas and I was only supposed to be gone a day and I already spend a lot of time at work and I just. I miss my kids and Jack. And, no offense, I love you, but you weren’t who I was expecting to spend Christmas with.”

“None taken,” Darcy said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “If it helps,” he tried. “I miss Bill and Miles and Quincy too.” It wasn’t the same, he and Billy weren’t even actually married, but, if nothing, it might make her laugh.

It worked. She snorted, wiping her eyes. “Miles and Quincy are _dogs_ and terrible names for dogs at that. It’s basically animal abuse. Charlie agrees with me,” Katherine added before Darcy could protest.

“Charlie’s trying to save face,” Darcy said. “They were already named Miles and Quincy when we picked them up at the shelter.”

Burying her face in her hands, Katherine laughed. “ _Whoever_ named them was very wrong, that’s all I’m saying.”

Darcy squeezed her shoulders. “Do you feel any better?”

Squeezing his hand and leaning her head on his shoulder, she said, “I won’t feel better until we’re back in New York, but thanks, Darce.”

“Anytime.” He kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back a little. “And, hey, we’ll make it back to New York. I’ll make sure of it. Because you’re not really who I wanted to spend Christmas with either. No offense,” he added with a smirk, knocking his head against hers.

Katherine laughed a little. “None taken.”

Darcy picked up his phone again. “I’m going to try the airline again and hopefully not get redirected a thousand times.”

“Good luck,” she scoffed, flopping back on the bed, turning her head when her phone buzzed on the nightstand next to her.

Sitting up, Katherine looked down at her phone, furrowing her brow at Pete’s name on the screen. Pete hadn’t called her since she’d been in Chicago, using Jack’s phone instead.

“Hey, Pete, is everything okay?” she asked, answering the phone, trying to keep the panic at bay. _Just because Pete’s calling doesn’t mean something’s wrong._

“ _Yeah, everythin’s fine, Mom,_ ” he said. “ _I need your help with something_.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s up, bud?” What would he be asking her for that he couldn’t ask Jack?

“ _When’re you gonna be home_?”

Well, that made sense, she supposed.

Sighing, Katherine raked a hand through her hair. “Hopefully soon, honey, but we’re still having trouble with the airline. Can I still help you over the phone?”

He made a thoughtful noise. “ _Maybe._ ”

“What is it?”

“ _I wanna do somethin’ for Brooklyn, but it’s somethin’ you’re good at._ ”

Katherine pressed a hand to her heart and swallowed back an " _aww"_. Her boys really could be sweet sometimes. “What are thinking of?”

He told her his idea—which was surprisingly well thought out for an almost-ten year old—and she reached for her purse, pulling out her notepad and scribbling down ideas. Whether she would be home in time to help or not, she couldn't help it.

“That sounds like a really great idea, Pete,” she said when he'd finished. “But since I’m not sure when I’ll be back, can Dad help you with some of that? He’s pretty good with that, too.”

“ _Yeah, I guess,_ ” he said. “ _But you’re_ better  _at it._ ”

Katherine smiled a little at his reassurance. “Well, okay, how about this? You ask Dad to help with the first part, and if I’m not back by then, you can call again and we’ll figure out how I can help, okay?”

“ _Okay. Thanks Mom_.”

“You’re welcome, Pete.” Twisting around, she looked at the time, mentally adding an hour, and asked, “Do you have homework tonight, bud?”

Pete was quiet for a moment before admitting, “ _Yeah, a little_.”

“Okay, why don’t you go finish that and I’ll talk to you tonight before you go to bed, okay?”

“ _Fine_ ,” he sighed loudly.

Katherine laughed. “Don’t sound too excited, kid,” she teased. “I love you, Pete.”

“ _You too, Mom. Bye._ ”

“Bye.” She hung up, setting her phone back on the nightstand, sighing and folding her leg so she could rest her chin on her knee, feeling a little less homesick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to Melissa, who told me she petsits two dogs named Miles and Quincy and they sounded like ridiculously fancy dog names and I just had to give Bill and Darcy fancy dogs.
> 
> the "my kids better not move to Chicago" is only kinda funny if you know Lucy grows up and goes to Northwestern University for college XD 
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!!!
> 
> xx


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which gingerbread houses are built and blown up.

“Now, remember,” Race said, squatting down so he was next to Brooklyn. “If ya wanna leave anytime, let me or Sean know, okay? We’ll leave right then.”

“Okay!” Brooklyn chirped, holding the gingerbread kit in her hands.

Spot knocked on the door. "Anytime," he reiterated. "Our friends are a lil..."

"Crazy?" Race supplied.

"That works. Crazy, an' if ya wanna go home, we'll leave, okay?"

"O _kay_ ," she said. "Are we gonna go in?"

"I gotta agree with her, where's DaSilva?" Spot asked.

Race shrugged, reaching for the doorknob and turning. "Lookit that," he said, when it pushed open. "Albert never locks his door."

"Idiot's gonna get robbed one day," Spot muttered.

They stepped inside, to see a madhouse in the middle of Al's living room. 

"Al!" Race called. "We're here!" 

“Brooklyn!" Lucy yelled, spotting them first, and running over. "Wanna be on me an’ Daddy’s team? He’s _really_ good at dec’ratin’ with icing!”

Brooklyn twisted to look up at Race. "Can I?"

"Yeah, 'course, hon."

Lucy dragged her into the living room, causing Brooklyn to giggle. "Have ya met Uncle Elmer?" they heard her ask Brooklyn and take her up to Elmer without waiting for an answer

"Uncle Elmer, this's Brooklyn!"

Elmer knelt down to the girls' height. "Hey, Brooklyn," he smiled. "Ya here to make gingerbread houses with us?"

Brooklyn nodded a little shyly. "'m gonna be on Jack an' Lucy's team."

"Ooh, that's a hard one to beat," he said. He held out his hand for a high five. "Good luck, kid."

She grinned a little and gave him a high five. "Thanks!"

“Alright, shithea—wait, no, lemme start over,” Albert said off Jack’s look. “Welcome ev’ryone to the twelfth annual ugly sweater-slash-gingerbread house contest. As usual, Spotty’s disqualified f’r not wearin’ an ugly sweater.”

“S’not in the rules,” Spot said, rolling his eyes.

“It is in the title,” Elmer pointed out.

Albert pointed at him. “’zactly. An’ whadda you show up in?”

Spot looked down at his plain long-sleeved Henley. “A tshirt.”

“Disqualified.”

Sighing loudly, Spot folded his arms across his chest. “Causes for disqualification are as follows," he quoted. "Usin’ anythin’ other than icing as an adherence afta’ the thing Elmer tried in 2012, bringin’ a fake gingerbread house afta’ the fiasco of oh-nine, not bringin’ ya own kit, an’ no bribin’ the judges because Davey’s too good to be bribed apparently.”

Davey shrugged. “You couldn’t afford it, Conlon.”

“Nothin’ ‘bout sweaters,” Spot added, rolling his eyes.

“That’s right, my husband’s a lawyer,” Race said proudly. “Suck it.”

Albert gave him a disbelieving look. “You’s on _my_ team, Higgins.”

“Yeah, but _he_ spouts legal jargon an’, gotta say, it’s kinda hot—”

“Children in the room,” Davey scolded.

“Yeah, an’ these kids’re ready to start buildin’, aren’t they?” Jack asked the four kids who were starting to look bored.

“ _Yes_ , Daddy,” Lucy said, smacking her hands on the table. “C’mon, Uncle Al, quit talkin’, let’s start!”

Jack gave Albert a _See?_ look. “The kids are antsy. Davey, let’s get this ball rollin’.”

“Wait, wait, we’s short a kit,” Albert said, looking around. “We need to double up—”

“Nope,” Spot said. “Rules’re rules, no more’n three on a team. Or lightin’ anythin’ with the firecrackers. An’ no married couples on account’a Jack an’ Kathy cheatin’.”

“Wouldja stop bein’ a lawyer f’r _two seconds_ —” Al complained.

“An’ f’r the thousandth time,” Jack said. “Kath an’ I can’t read each other’s minds.”

Spot snorted. “No one believes that, not afta the Pictionary incident.”

“I’m an art major! An’ it ain’t that hard ta guess ‘cop’ with the amount’a times you’s been arrested, Conlon.”

“Okay, point is, we don’t got a gingerbread house to build, an’ I ain’t sittin’ out,” Albert declared, interrupting them. “It’s my apartment.”

“Wait, okay, I got it,” Davey said. He began collecting the gingerbread men and trees from the kits Jack had brought. “Here. Build it outta this.”

“This ain’t nothin’,” Albert complained.

“It’s this or you and Race are disqualified for being less prepared than my sophomores,” Davey said.

Albert gave Race a dry look. “I hate when he reminds us he’s a teacher.”

Shaking his head, Davey set the gingerbread pieces in front of them. “Taking that as a yes, here are your supplies, who’s ready?”

“Let’s _go_ , Uncle Davey!” Pete insisted. He lived for this contest and spent most of December waiting for the day. Jack was a little surprised with how Pete had been acting lately, but he’d really bounced back in the last couple of days.

“Yeah!” Lucy said, trying to stand in her chair before Jack tugged her back down.

“Alright, the children have spoken,” Davey laughed. “You have an hour, architects. Worst house gets blown up! Go!”

There was a flurry of activity as the teams ripped into their kits and Davey started the timer on his phone. Race and Albert almost immediately started squabbling over their inadequate cookie pieces.  

"Uncle Davey?" Corey asked, holding two pieces of the gingerbread together so Pete could ice them. "Why're ya always the judge?"

"Because I'm the only one who can stay impartial." 

Corey mouthed the word to himself. "What's 'impartial'?"

"Means I'm fair," Davey explained. 

“Coulda brought that girl, we need another judge,” Al said. "An' nothin' more impartial than a girl who hasn't even met us yet."

Jack looked up sharply, pulling the icing away from the house. “What girl? S’there a girl? An’ ya told _Al_?”

“ _Daddy_ , pay ‘ttention!” Lucy complained, pulling his arm back. “Me an’ Brooklyn wanna put on the candy!”

“I’m sorry, honey.” He moved the piping bag back to finish the design on the roof. “Is it the librarian?” he asked, trying—and failing—for casual.

“Her name is Chaya,” Albert supplied with a shit-eating grin when he realized he knew something Jack didn't.

Jack looked shocked. “He got a _name_? David, ‘m gonna hafta reevaluate our friendship here if you’s gonna go tellin’ _Al_ everythin’…”

Davey sighed loudly. “I asked him _one_ question, that’s not me ditchin’ almost twenty years of friendship.”

“Betta’ not,” Jack muttered, and Davey cuffed his shoulder. “‘Ay, ‘m weildn’ icing here, you can apologize to me later, Jacobs.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do,” Davey muttered sarcastically, moving down to look at another gingerbread house.

The hour flew by, with a dozen icing spills and candy mishaps, two almost-topples, and one meltdown.

(Though Albert refused to call it that) 

"And that's time!" Davey said as the timer went off on his phone.

"Two more minutes!" Albert immediately called.

Davey shook his head. "Nope. Icing down, DaSilva. Step away from the gumdrops." 

Grumbling, Al dropped one more gumdrop on their house to spite Davey before taking a step back, raising his hands to show Davey he was done. "Fine."

Pacing around the kitchen, Davey took a moment to check out each gingerbread house, taking longer with the kids' houses, overdoing the hemming and hawing the antsier they got.

“Alright, I’ve come to my decision,” Davey said, finally. “In first place, with a traditional, albeit slightly leaning, take on the gingerbread house… Pete and Corey!”

Corey cheered, jumping up and nearly knocked over their gingerbread house a third time, and he and Pete high fived.

“Keep goin’, who lost?” Albert called.

Davey shook his head. “Second place, with somehow more candy than icing… Jack, Lucy, and Brooklyn!”

“Daddy! We got second place!” Lucy squealed.

“Yeah, we did!” he laughed.

Brooklyn twisted around in her chair. “Sean! I got _second_!” she said excitedly.

“‘Ay, good job, Brooklyn!” He gave her a thumbs-up, which she copied, grinning.

“And for the last two teams…” Davey continued. “It was difficult, but in third place, we have… Race and Albert, which means Spot and Elmer’s house gets blown up!”

Albert and Race whooped, while Elmer and Spot immediately started complaining.

“Pity vote!” Elmer cried. “Ya only gave ‘em third ‘cause their gingerbread house is stupid an’ pitiful!”

“No it ain’t!” Albert complained. “We did pretty good for havin’ like three pieces!”

“Davey, I wanna recount,” Spot demanded.

Davey shrugged. “I’m sorry, Spot, you and Elmer didn’t even use icing on the roof, it’s just… leaning there.”

“We _have_ a roof at least!” Elmer protested.

“Are we blowin’ up a house or _not_?” Corey whined.

Nodding, Davey said, “Judge ruled, we’re blowing up Spot and Elmer’s house, no further discussion.”

“We can blow up ours, too,” Race said. “It’s _pitiful_.”

“To the roof in five minutes!” Albert declared. 

Lucy and Corey cheered, jumping up and running to the door where their coats were hanging, Pete following them.

Brooklyn, however, went to Spot, climbing up in the chair next to him. “Hey, Brooklyn. Whaddaya think, like our gingerbread house?”

She tilted her head at it, thinking. “You didn’t use ‘nough candy,” she finally said.

He nodded. “That’s fair. Ya wanna come up an’ watch us blow it up?”

Twisting her face a little, Brooklyn asked hesitantly, “S’it gonna be loud?”

“Yeah, kinda loud.” She didn’t look thrilled by the idea, and Spot vaguely remembered something Race had said a week or so back about a car backfiring. “Ya wanna stay down here with me an’ eat the rest’a the candy?”

That seemed to turn her around. “Can we?”

“Yeah, ‘course we can.” He picked up a mint, unwrapping it and pushing a bowl of icing towards her.

Lucy skipped back towards them, coat on. “C’mon, Brooklyn! We’re gonna blow up the gingerbread houses!”

Brooklyn looked up at Spot, a little nervously. He put a hand on her shoulder and said to Lucy, “Ya know, Luce, we’re gonna sit this one out, okay?”

“But—”

“Lucy-Goose! C’mon, honey, we’re gonna miss it!” Jack said from the door.

Lucy looked back and forth between Brooklyn and Jack a moment before relenting. “Comin’ Daddy, let’s go!” she said, running to the door.

Spot dipped his finger in the icing. “Didja have fun today, Brooklyn?”

Her eyes lit up. “Yeah! I like Elmer an’ Albert an’ Davey, an’ Jack’s _really_ good at buildin’ gingerbread houses!”

“Yeah, he is pretty good, ain’t he?”

“Yeah! An’ ours turned out really pretty, didn't it, Sean?"

He looked over at the candy-coated house on the table and had to agree. "Looks _great,_ Brooklyn. But," he added, getting another dollop of icing on his finger. "Think ya might need more icin'," he said, dabbing it on the back of her hand.

" _Sean_!" she giggled, wiping her hand on the sleeve of his shirt.

Gasping faux-dramatically, Spot swiped the icing from her, causing her to laugh harder.

Race watched from the door, smiling at his husband and—Brooklyn. When they first talked about having kids, he almost hadn't believed Spot when he said he did want kids. But seeing him now, with Brooklyn, Race couldn't imagine Spot without a kid, honestly.

And he didn't think Spot could, either.

It was probably time to have a talk with his husband.

"'Ay, Racer, c'mon. We's lightin' this year," Albert called from the elevator.

Shaken from his thoughts, Race glanced back at Spot and Brooklyn—now throwing gumdrops at each other—before turning towards the elevator. "Yeah, 'm comin'!"

It could wait until they were home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the uncle who blew up his gingerbread house when I was like nine? he built it out of the extra pieces in the kit and definitely won the pity vote from my great-grandma. 
> 
> we still blew it up. it was great.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think!!!
> 
> xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marissa finally comes clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny strong language note at the end!!

Al stood with his hands in his pockets, looking around the room.

 If he wasn’t so confused by the whole situation, he’d almost be amused, because Wall Street bigwigs were fuckin’ _hilarious_ when they were drunk.

He still wasn’t entirely sure why Marissa had invited him. They’d always been clear about the “not a couple” thing, and well… attending a Christmas party felt like a very “coupley” thing to do.

Not that they weren’t great between the sheets, but Albert just… didn’t feel that way. Hadn’t ever, about anyone. And Marissa knew that since the beginning—neither of the them had been looking for romance.

So yeah, he was still confused about why she’d invited him to her office party.

He’d lost track of her about ten minutes ago, and he was starting to wonder if he should just bail. He could text her later, say something came up. As he was figuring out his best exit strategy, she grabbed his arm, pulling him towards a group of people before he could say anything.

“And this is Albert, my boyfriend.”

The word ping-ponged around in his head as he faked a smile and shook hands, not remembering anyone’s name.

_Boyfriend? When the hell did that happen?_

“So, Al, what do you do?” one of the guys—Jimmy? Jeremiah?—asked, clapping his shoulder.

Subtly moving aside, Albert forced another smile. “Al” was a nickname he didn’t like random people using on him. “I’m—”

“Albert’s an entrepreneur,” Marissa said quickly, smiling at Jeffrey, who looked impressed.

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Well if ‘entrepreneur’s a fancy word f’r ‘teachin’ four an’ five year olds dance’, then yeah, I’m a entrepreneur.”

Jarrett’s smile became tight, like most people’s did when they found out what he did for a living. “Oh. You… dance?”

“Yeah, I got the moves like Jagger an’ all that shit.”

“Ah,” Jay said, taking a sip of his drink and avoiding his eye.

Albert cocked his head at Joey, raising his eyebrow slowly. “What?” he asked, an edge to his voice betraying his casual question. “Whatcha gotta say ‘bout me bein’ a dance teacher?”

Jackson raised a hand. “Hey, no, I’m not saying anything. I’m sure it’s very… fulfilling, teaching dance.”

“Look, maybe I ain’t on _Wall Street_ , but—”

Before Albert had the chance to finish, Marissa was clutching his arm, giving Jamie an apologetic smile. “Will you excuse us a moment? I’m so sorry,” she said in a honeyed voice, dragging Al with her across the room.

Finding a relatively quiet corner of the room, she dropped his arm and her fake smile. “What the _hell_ is your problem?” Marissa hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.

He looked at her, shocked. “The hell’s _my_ problem? The hell’s _your_ problem? Tellin’ that Jayden guy I’m a ‘entrepreneur’ and callin’ me ya boyfriend—”

“Jayden? His name was _Jack_ , Albert.”

Albert paused a moment then relented. “Okay, that’s on me, I shoulda remembered Jack, but the rest’a that shit? What was that, Marissa? We know what this is, an’ you’s actin’ like we’s somethin’ we ain’t, so maybe we need ta talk ‘bout this—”

Marissa threw her hands up suddenly, cutting him off. “You know what? We do need to talk. But not about _that_ , and definitely not here. Come on.”

She turned on her heel and stalked toward her office without bothering to see if he followed. He did, raking a hand through his hair.

Closing the door to her office behind him, Albert watched as she stood with her back to him, staring out the wide windows.

He vaguely remembered the day she’d been given the corner office they stood in now—well, if Al was honest, he remembered that night better, he thought with a smirk.

Plopping himself in a chair in front of her desk, Albert propped a foot on her desk, tipping the chair back, waiting for Marissa to speak.

After several long moments of her looking out the window and him waiting, he finally said, “Marissa, you’s the one who dragged me in here. What’s goin’ on?”

She whirled around, eyes glinting a little… was she?—no, Marissa wasn’t capable of crying.

Pursing her lips and tossing her head a little in a defensive move he’d seen before, Marissa said, “I’m pregnant.”

Al’s foot slipped off the desk and the chair crashed back to the ground. They stared at each other a long moment in silence before a single word slipped past his lips.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to know where this Al and Marissa's story goes from here, check out [Heartfelt Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159761%22), Grace's one-shot that started it all!!!
> 
> (some vague spoilers for Spot/Race/Brooklyn's story too if you haven't been around that long to see them written...)
> 
> I just realized last night that there's only like a week until Christmas and it made me really sad... only seven chapters to go! D:
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!!!
> 
> xx


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Katherine makes it home in time for Christmas!

Katherine sighed in relief as the Uber pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building. She and Darcy had managed to catch the red-eye at the last minute, and it was now well after midnight. Jack hadn’t even been able to pick her up from the airport since it was a school night and they didn’t want the kids out so late.

Pushing the door open, she stretched her arms over her head, popping her back a little as she did, and met Darcy at the trunk.

“Here you go,” he said, sounding as tired as she felt, handing her her bag.

“Thanks.” Katherine hugged him, leaning into him a moment in her tired state. “Now go home to Billy and your weird fancy dogs.”

“They’re not _weird_ —”

“—Darcy, I’ve petsat for you before. Quincy likes to stare at the wall. Miles gets his head stuck in his toys. They’re a little weird.”

He rolled his eyes fondly. "I’ll give you a pass because you’re tired. Get some sleep. Will you be at work tomorrow?”

Katherine shook her head. “No, the kids have class Christmas parties tomorrow—later today, I guess. Jack’s going to Corey’s and I’m going Lucy’s.”

Darcy winced sympathetically. “Well sleep while you can. We’ll see you… this weekend? At your parents?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, realization dawning on her. “That is this weekend…”

“Okay, you need sleep. Go,” he pushed her a little towards the sidewalk.

She only stumbled a bit, shooting him a glare before straightening. “Text me when you make it home, okay?”

“I will. ‘Night Kath.” Darcy slid into the backseat of the car once more and she waved at him tiredly before turning and entering the building.

Katherine leaned on the wall of the elevator, closing her eyes briefly. It’d been a long week, suddenly scrambling to find a place to stay in Chicago with all the hotels full with the holidays, spending most days on the phone with the airline, trying to make it home, only able to FaceTime the kids and Jack at night before bed.

The elevator dinged, and she opened her eyes to push off the wall and head down the hallway, reaching for her keys.

Almost every night they talked, Lucy asked if she would be home for Christmas, and it nearly broke Katherine’s heart every time she did. She wanted to be able to tell her definitively, but she couldn’t, and Lucy was too young to really remember two years back when Jack nearly missed the day.

Speaking of her husband, she thought as she quietly pushed the door open and set her bag on the floor next to the door and shrugged out of her coat. Jack was stretched out on the couch, one hand tucked behind his head, one resting on his stomach, the TV turned down as Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye flaunted their blue feather fans in front of a crowd. He must have fallen asleep waiting for her to get home.

She leaned on the back of the couch to look at him.

His features were smooth as he slept, his cheeks and chin peppered with stubble. She could see the bit of gray sprouting at his temples, and she swore he never looked so handsome.

It never ceased to amaze her how much she could miss him, like a piece missing from her, even after only a week, but she supposed after a decade and a half of being with him, a little separation anxiety was warranted.

But Katherine was home now, and she’d probably been staring at her husband for too long at this point.

“You watchin’ me sleep, crazy lady?” Jack asked, cracking an eye open to look at her.

She rolled her eyes at him, pushing his head a little. “I should’ve known you were awake,” she said. “You weren’t snoring.”

He scoffed, pulling his hand from behind his head to grab hers before she pulled away. “I do _not_ snore, Ace, you’s goin’ crazy.”

Squeezing his hand, she said, “Jack. Babe. We’ve been together for fifteen years. Lived with you thirteen and a half of them. You snore. And,” she added before he could protest, “I have Davey to back me up, since the two of you shared a room for three years.”

“It’s so good ta see my lovin’ wife after a week apart,” Jack deadpanned. “Comin’ home an’ starin’ at me all creepy-like an’ spreadin’ lies ‘bout me.”

Shaking her head, Katherine leaned over the back of the couch, using her other hand to cup his face, kissing him sweetly. Pulling back a little, holding the back of his hand to her cheek, she whispered, “Hi.”

A lazy smile spread across his face, and Jack whispered back. “Hi. I missed ya.”

“Mm,” she kissed him again. “I missed you too.” Kissing him once more, she straightened, tugging his hand a little. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Mm, nooo,” Jack whined. “Too comfy. Don’t wanna move. You c’mere.”

Katherine sighed dramatically, but allowed herself to be pulled down on the couch with Jack, settling her head on his shoulder and tangling their legs together.

Smoothing his hands down her back, Jack asked, “How was Chicago?”

“Mm. Cold. Lonely.” She nuzzled into him. “Glad to be home. Shouldn’t be falling asleep on the couch,” she added with a mumble. “We’ll wake up sore.”

He twisted the ends of her hair with his fingers. “Then we won’t fall asleep.”

“Mm.” Katherine sighed, eyes already closing as she snuggled further into him. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> of course I wouldn't leave Katherine in Chicago for Christmas, I'm not a _monster_...
> 
> ten points if you can guess the Christmas classic Jack's watching!!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the PTA moms are Too Much™ for Race and Kath.

“Kath, I have a horrible feeling.” Race said, sidling up next to her as soon as she entered the classroom.

“Well, it’s probably all that espresso you drink,” Katherine said. “I keep telling you, four shots, at your age—”

He knocked his shoulder against hers. “It’s _not_ my coffee order, an’ even if it were, I wouldn’t give it up. No, this feelin’ comes from _them_.” He jerked his head towards the little group of moms on the other side of the room.

“Early-thirties PTA moms?” Katherine asked, taking a sip of her coffee. She definitely still wasn’t awake enough for this.

“Those PTA moms don’t know I’m married. _To a man_ ,” Race added on a whisper. “Now, I’ve taken great pride in my ability to appear as gay as—to quote _Golden Girls_ —a picnic basket, and I don’t think _they_ realize it.”

Katherine furrowed her brow. “You watch _Golden Girls_?”

“Yes, ‘cause ‘m as gay as a picnic basket, keep up Plumber!” Race whined.

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what? They’re flirting with you? Where’s your ring? That should at least slow them down.”

He shook his head. “It needs t’be resized an’ I took the chain off to shower an’ forgot ta put it back on… s’a whole thing,” he waved his hand. “Oh, god, one’s comin’, distract her.”

“Tony, you are a grown man—and he’s gone…” Katherine shook her head. Still, she intercepted the mom before she could follow Race. “Hi, I’m Katherine Kelly, Lucy’s mom. Where can I put these brownies?”

“Oh,” the woman said, surprised by her presence. “Yeah, it’s over here, I’ll show you.”

“I appreciate it.” She followed her to a table along the wall of the classroom. “Just… any open spot?”

“Yeah, anywhere’s fine.”

Katherine set the pan of brownies in the little space left open on the overflowing table. “Which one’s yours?” she asked, gesturing out the window where the class was lining up to come in.

“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself, I’m sorry. I’m Elle, Melissa’s mom.” She pointed out the window. “The little redhead with braids.”

“Aw, my oldest son had hair like that when he was that age,” Katherine said. “Broke my heart when it started getting darker—”

“I’m really sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Elle said. “But you were supposed to bring chips, not brownies.”

“Oh,” Katherine wasn’t sure why it mattered that much, there were plenty of snacks of all types on the table. “I’m sorry, I was out of town for work and between that and my husband having the kids all week, he just made a double batch for Lucy and our middle son.”

“Oh, your husband was by himself with the kids?” she laughed. “That’s always an adventure.” 

“Yeah, it’s—”

“The last time I went out of town to see my parents, I was gone three days and had something like eight frozen meals prepped.”

“Wow,” Katherine said, trying for impressed and wishing for more coffee. “I didn’t even have a chance to go grocery shopping before I left. It was a last minute assignment. I’m an investigative reporter…”

“Oh that must be so nice, having a husband who can stay with the kids all day,” Elle said and Katherine resisted the urge to strangle her.

_You are not setting a bad example for your child, Jack would never let you live it down._

“Well, Jack also works. He’s a freelancer, though, so his hours are a little more flexible and he doesn’t have to travel as much—”

“Oh, you travel?” One of the other moms asked as she approached them, and Katherine thought _How the hell am I the only one getting interrogated by PTA moms?_

“I travel for work, too, sometimes,” she added, and Katherine sighed in relief. Then she opened her mouth again. “I always get so nervous leaving my family. My husband can barely take care of himself, let alone the kids, too.”

_Do not set a bad example for your child, do not strangle the PTA mom…_

“Well, Jack, did survive almost twenty-one years without me—”

“I’m the same way,” Elle said over Katherine.

 _Should I use my invisibility for good or evil?_ she thought, rubbing the spot between her eyes.

“My oldest is seven, and I’ve taught her how to pack lunches and how to get her and her siblings up for school and—”

“That sounds like child abuse,” Race said, slinging an arm around Katherine’s shoulders, and not a moment too soon. She was close to screaming just to hear something else.

“Gotta say, I travel a lot f’r work, too, an’ I act’ally have faith in my husband ta take care’a our kid—"

"—And  _I_ have faith in Jack," Katherine interjected. "He's a grown man, capable of taking care of himself  _and_ our children."

Race tsked. "Must be sad not even bein’ able ta trust ya own husband not ta take care’a his kids.”

Elle and the other mom looked shocked and a little appalled before turning and walking back towards to the other mothers.

Letting out a loud sigh, Race looked at her. “You’re welcome.”

Katherine shoved him a little. “Okay, that was childish and petty, so I should be mad but I’m not, _thank you_.”

"'Ay, no problem. That was fun." He grinned.

"What is it about being in the PTA that makes them... like that?" she asked,

Race shrugged. "AIn't the PTA. It's that protein-deficiency 'cause they's all vegan. The kale's messin' with their heads."

Katherine laughed, pushing him again, as the door opened and Lucy's teacher led the class in the room. "Okay, everyone! Let's sit on the reading rug for our story before the party begins, okay?"

Instead of sitting on the carpet, Lucy ran up to Katherine. "Mama! Come sit next to me!" she said, pulling on her hand.

"Okay, Luce, I'm coming," Katherine laughed, allowing herself to be dragged to the rug on the other side of the classroom. Sitting on the edge of the carpet, she let Lucy keep hold of her hand, playing with her fingers and wedding band.

Brooklyn had grabbed Race's hand too, pulling him to sit next to them. Katherine looked back to where the other moms were. Race followed her gaze, giving them a cheeky smile as they looked back with a mix of vague disgust and slight disappointment.

"Who needs the PTA?" Katherine asked.

"Not us," Race answered, lifting his fist for her to bump it with hers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melissa, I'm sure your mom is cool with her dope flower shop, I just ran out of names and used yours ;)
> 
> four more days til Christmas!! let's see if I can wrap this story up better than I wrap presents ;)
> 
> xx


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Spot and Race finally talk.

Brooklyn settled in her seat, wiggling in anticipation, causing the skirt of her new dress to rustle under her as she did.

Race had never seen her so excited about… well, anything, really, not in the last two months.

They’d decided to go see Specs in a local production of _The Nutcracker_ —it’d been a tradition for Race as long as he could remember, finding a new production to see each year, and this year, they got to see it with their kid.

 _Foster kid_ , a little voice reminded him, but, really, it was feeling more and more real each day she was with them. He and Spot had a kid, a daughter, who was sitting on her knees, looking around the dimly lit theater with wide eyes, rising slightly so she could see the stage better.

Only for another couple to sit in front of her, effectively blocking her view.

Brooklyn’s face fell at the broad pair of shoulders now sitting in front of her, and Race felt his heart break a little as she quietly sat back on her heels.

Spot noticed too, shooting Race a look over her head.

“‘Ay Brooklyn?” Race tapped her shoulder so she’d look up at him. “Ya wanna sit with me? I gots a pretty good view of the stage.”

“Yeah?” she asked, already sitting up again.

“Yeah, c’mere.” He helped her climb over the armrest into his lap and get settled. “That better?”

“Yeah!” Brooklyn twisted around to look around with her new vantage point.

The overture music played as the lights dimmed. "Lookit, that," Race whispered, nudging her so she'd look back to the stage. "It's startin'!"

Brooklyn let out a quiet noise that Race could swear was a stifled squeal, practically bouncing in his lap.

Spot gave him a look as he moved into Brooklyn's vacated seat, equal parts amused and shocked at how much she'd changed, just in the last month. Before, Brooklyn would barely touch them besides holding their hands when they were out, and just last week, snuggled into Spot as they watched _Rudolph_ for the hundredth time this month, and now she hadn't even thought twice about climbing into Race's lap. 

Race shrugged a little, linking their fingers together as the show started. 

He ended up watching Brooklyn more than the dancers on stage, which felt a little lie betrayal to Specs, but he couldn't help it. She remained enthralled throughout the show, watching with wide, sparkling eyes, hands clutched in her lap as she leaned as far forward as she was able.

Even the fight between the soldiers and the mice didn’t seem to scare her as much as he thought—she only flinched once during the battle between the Mouse King and the Nutcracker.

They’d wondered if she’d even be able to stay awake through the whole show, but the later it got, the more she seemed energized.

She clapped as loud as her little hands would allow her to as the curtain went down over the dancers after their bows, bouncing agains in Race's lap, causing him to laugh.

"Well, Brooklyn, didja like it?" he asked.

Brooklyn twisted around so she could see him, grinning ear-to-ear. " _Loved_ it, Tony!" She jumped off his lap, bouncing. "They danced  _so_ good!"

He pulled her back a little so someone could pass them. "They did, didn't they?" he asked, standing up to pull his coat on.

"Yeah, an' their clothes were so  _pretty_!"

“Who was ya favorite, Brooklyn?” Spot asked as he helped her put her coat back on.

“Clara! She threw a shoe at the mean mouse an’ danced real good… ooh, an’ the Nutcracker! He was real good too an’ became a prince!”

Her chatter made Race smile and he squatted next to her. “Hey, ya wanna meet someone?" He'd come by the other day to see Specs and remembered where the dressing room was.

"Meet who?" she asked.

He lowered his voice. "Someone in the show."

Brooklyn's eyes went impossibly wider. "Yeah!"

Taking her hand, Race helped them weave through the audience members leaving the theater to backstage, where the dressing rooms were. 

By the time they made it back, about half the cast had already changed into street clothes and were filing out of the dressing room. Greeting the ones he knew, a handful of dancers he'd met in auditions and workshops, Race led them further into the room until they found Specs, scrolling through his phone, half in his costume, half in street clothes.

"Hey, Specs!" Race said, waving. 

Specs dropped his phone, grinning at them. "'Ay, Racer! Spotty! An'..." he looked down at Brooklyn, who was taking in everything around her. "Brooklyn, right?"

She whipped around. "Hi! Tony said you were in the show."

"I was. Wait, maybe this'll help," Specs took off his glasses and picked up the Mouse King head he wore in the show, fitting it back of his head. Brooklyn gasped.

"The Mouse King!" she exclaimed. 

Specs chuckled, raising his hands in gnarled claws, causing her to giggle. He pulled the mask off, setting git back on the table. "Didja like the show, Brooklyn?"

"Yeah! It was _really_ good!"

"'Ay, I'm glad ya liked it!" Someone called Specs' name and he turned around to wave at them. "Thanks for comin' guys! I gotta go, though, I'm goin' out with the other Russian dancers. I'll see ya the seventh, right, Race?"

He nodded. "Yeah, we's ready f'r ya ta join up. Gettin' more ballet kids than I can handle."

"It's gonna be great," Specs said, standing and looking around. "Now, where're my shoes...?"

"One's in ya bag, the other's gonna be under the table," Race said, clapping his shoulder. "Always is."

Specs ducked his head to look under the table, reaching under to snag his tennis show. "How d'ya do that?"

Race shrugged. "S'a gift. We'll get outta ya hair, Specs, let ya go. Brooklyn just wanted ta tell ya she loved the show, didn't ya, hon?"

"Yeah!" Brooklyn agreed. "You were real good."

"Glad ya had fun, Brooklyn. I'll see ya soon, okay?"

"Okay!" They said their goodbyes to Specs and retraced their steps back out to the front of the theater, before Brooklyn asked, eyes wide. “Tony? How d’ya know the Mouse King?” 

“That’s m’friend Specs! He an’ I went ta dance school together a _long_ time ago, ‘fore ya were even born.”

“His name is _Specs_?” she asked, disbelievingly. 

“Well, it’s really Matt," Race amended. "Specs is a just nickname. Like how some of our friends call us Race an’ Spot.”

“‘Cause’a Sean’s, uh… til-go, right?”

Spot was impressed. They’d told her when she asked about his left arm the first time she saw it, but he didn’t think she’d remember the name for it. "Yeah, that's right, Brooklyn."

"You went to dance school, Tony?" Brooklyn asked, looking up at him. 

"Yeah! I even played in the _Nutcracker_ once, too. Long time ago."

“D’ya dance in shows _too_?” she asked excitedly.

“Sometimes, when I get a part, but lately I’s been helpin’ my friend Albert—you remember him? We went to his house to build gingerbread houses—who teaches dance to kids.”

“ _Whoa,_ that’s cool!”

“Yeah, ya think?” Race laughed.

Brooklyn nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Maybe he could teach me!”

Spot and Race exchanged a quick look. Not once had she ever actually asked for something for herself, but right now, she was looking at them, excited and pleading. “Is that somethin’ ya’d wanna try?" Spot asked, carefully. "Dance lessons?”

“Can I, Sean? Tony?” she asked, bouncing on her toes, and Race honestly wondered how he hadn't seen it earlier. 

“Yeah!" he answered quickly. "I’ll call Albert when we get home, okay?”

“Yay!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

 

~*~

 

“You talk ta Al?” Spot asked, entering their room from sitting with Brooklyn—who had fallen asleep much quicker tonight, excitement from the show that night wearing off and knocking her out—to see Race setting his phone on the nightstand next to the bed, plugging it in.

“Yeah. Sounded kinda off—think he and Marissa had ‘nother fight—but he says we can sign her up after the holidays.”

Spot nodded, quiet as he unbuttoned the dress shirt he wore to the theater, shrugging it off and tossing it near the hamper. “Dance lessons… Seems kinda permanent, don’t’cha think?”

“Whadda ya mean?” Race asked, pulling on a pair of pajama pants.

“I just mean…” Spot shrugged. “We can’t even get her in with Al ‘til after the first’a the year. That’s still a week away, what if…? An’ even if we get her into lessons what if we can’t… I mean, we didn’t even have barely a day before Aidan was taken upstate, what happens if—?” He didn’t finish his questions, but Race knew what he was asking.

Setting a knee on the mattress, he crawled across the bed to where Spot stood. “Have ya thought ‘bout…” he started slowly. They’d talked about it for years, and everything in the last almost two months seemed to be leading up to this conversation.

He shrugged and continued. “Well, we knows she don’t have parents or relatives waitin’ for her, maybe we should talk ta Stephanie ‘bout goin’ ‘head an’ puttin’ in f’r adoption?”

Spot’s expression was hard to read, even after all the time he’d known him. “You want that?” he asked softly, reaching for Race’s hands, holding them tightly.

Race squeezed the hands in his. “Do you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so they're talking about talking. But they've finally said something!!
> 
> three days left!!
> 
> xx


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and Katherine have a more in-depth talk than Spot and Race.

"'ppreciate it, Davey," Katherine heard Jack say, tossing his phone on the bed before popping his collar and picking up his tie, looping it around his neck.

"Is he still okay to watch the kids tomorrow?" she asked, fastening the stud in her ear.

Shaking out his coat, Jack leaned against the doorframe. "Yeah, he's still comin'. Said he might be late Tuesday, though."

"Why Tuesday?"

"Wouldn't say, but 'm pretty sure Davey's finally listenin' ta me."

Katherine narrowed her eyes at him in the mirror. "Last time Davey listened to you, the two of you ended up with three ducklings in your dorm."

Jack half-groaned, half-laughed, pushing off the door to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You  _love_ bringin' that up. We was stupid kids with stupid ideas."

She gave him a dry look. "Jack, you brought three ducklings into your dorm, carried them around everywhere, and called it 'Ducks for Chicks'. I love you, but stupid is an understatement."

"Hey, I got'chu, didn't I?"

"You had to break your arm first to do it," she reminded him. "And I still made the first move. Now," Katherine patted his hand. "Let me go a sec so I can finish. Are the kids ready?"

Letting her go with a kiss to her shoulder, Jack said, "Pete's tie is on, Corey's is off, and Lucy wants Mama to do her hair."

Katherine leaned forward to touch up her lipstick, chuckling a little. "Alright, I'll go help her in a sec."

Tying his tie and smoothing his collar down, Jack picked up his suit jacket and shrugged into it. "I know it ain't much use arguin' this, but why don't I just stay here with the kids, an'—"

"Jack." She turned around to give him a look. "Lucy's been looking forward to this for two weeks, it's her first grown-up party. Yes, she's probably going to crash around nine, but she's really excited about it. And it's really important to Mom and Dad. And," she added, stepping forward and taking his hands, smirking slightly. "There's not even snow in the forecast, if that's what you're worried about."

He chuckled, squeezing her hands. "I know, babe, an' it ain't like I hate goin' ta your folks. Food's good, ya mom's nice, the kids have fun. S'just always so..."

"Showy? Pretentious? Ostentatious?" Katherine supplied.

"God, you's hot when you use them big words," Jack said, tugging her forward and kissing her. "But say she does crash 'round nine. Does that mean—?"

"Yes, Jack." She kissed him again. "We can leave then."

"My  _angel_." He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deeply.

" _Mamaaaaa_!" Lucy called from down the hallway and they barely had a moment before she was barreling through their bedroom door, shiny new Mary Janes clacking against the floor. "Mama, are ya gonna do my hair?"

Smoothing her hand down Jack's tie—silver, one that would match her wrap—Katherine stepped away from Jack. "Yes I am, Lucy. Got your bows?"

 

~*~

 

Jack pulled Katherine close as they swayed to the music, resting his head against hers.

"See, this isn't so bad, is it?" she asked, brushing her thumb across the back of his neck. They'd arrived early enough to do a mini-Christmas with the kids and her parents, and Pete, Corey, and Lucy had managed to last at the 'grown-up' party about half an hour before running upstairs to play with their cousins. It was only eight-thirty and, last time Katherine had checked, Lucy was still valiantly trying to stay awake.

He shrugged. "'Cept ya dad keeps givin' me dirty looks."

"That's probably because your hand keeps drifting towards my ass," Katherine said, reaching back and pulling his arm back to a more appropriate location. "Will you _behave_?" she said, trying for stern, but laughing a little despite herself as his hand started moving again.

Jack considered that. "Mm. Never was my strong suit, but I can give it a try."

"Good." She settled again him again, sighing. "What a year," she murmured. "All three kids in school, you going back to work..."

"Spot an' Race gettin' a kid," Jack added. 

"Well. Foster kid," Katherine corrected half-heartedly.

He tilted his head in consideration. "Eh. This time next year, she'll be theirs."

“Do you really think they’ll adopt?” she asked, leaning back to look at him.

Jack shrugged, turning them in a slow circle. “All I know is I’ve seen Spot Conlon in love exactly twice in all the time I’ve known him. Once with Racer, and now with that li’l girl. I ain’t a bettin’ man—”

“—because you can’t bluff to save your life,” Katherine teased. He squeezed her hand, rolling his eyes fondly.

“— _but_ , yeah, I think they’ll adopt Brooklyn. They’ve basically adopted ‘er already, they just need the paperwork makin’ it official.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “How are you so sure?”

He shrugged. “‘m hopeful more’n anythin’. They was crushed when their other kid was taken to his aunt an’ they love Brooklyn ta bits. An’ I wasn’t in foster care too long ‘fore everythin’ was sorted wit’ Medda, but it’s a rough system an’ I was nine. Can’t imagine what that li’l girl’s gone through.”

Looking down at her, Jack shrugged a little again, giving her a slightly self-conscious half-smile, and Katherine was struck by just how big a heart her husband had, even for a young girl who had barely been in their lives all that long.

She stopped them suddenly, letting go of his hand and sliding her arm from his neck to hold his face and kiss him. It wasn’t incredibly passionate by any means—she was all too aware of her parents ten feet from them—but she poured all her wonder and adoration and love into that brush of the lips, leaving them both a little breathless when they parted.

“What’s that f’r?” he laughed, squeezing her hips.

Katherine shrugged. “I just love you, Jack Kelly.”

Jack smiled. “Well that works out pretty great f’r me, seein’ as I love you too, Katherine Kelly.”

“Oh, good," she sighed in faux-relief. "Fifteen years and I just wasn’t sure, it was starting to worry me.”

“Oh yeah? Well, lemme just…” he pulled her back to him, kissing her again. “That better?”

Katherine scrunched her nose a little, shaking her head. “Mm… no, I think I need a little more convincing.”

Jack sighed loudly. "Oh, alright, but just 'cause you's so damn beautiful," he said, leaning down a little and capturing her lips in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly how dare they be that cute?? who gave them the RIGHT???
> 
> if you weren't around last year, [the broken arm is a canon event in the Kelly Kids 'verse!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12772986/chapters/29482893)
> 
> two more chapters!!!
> 
> xx


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Kellys and the Higgins-Conlons celebrate Christmas Eve.

“Come on, act like you like each other,” Katherine pleaded as Lucy sprawled across the floor and Corey and Pete engaged in some kind of wrestling match in front of the tree. She and Jack had been trying for five minutes to get the kids to sit still long enough to take their picture in front of the tree.

“Okay,” she tried again. “Everyone who sits still long enough for Daddy to take the picture gets to eat one of Santa’s cookies.”

Lucy immediately sat up, nearly conking heads with Pete, cheering. “I want one’a Santa’s cookies!” she insisted. After another short scuffle, Pete and Corey finally sat up on either side of her.

"S'one way ta get 'em to listen," Jack laughed, snapping a couple pictures with his phone.

"Oh, using sweets to get them to listen? I've been using that one for years, worked like a charm on you and the boys," she teased, knocking his shoulder with hers.

Nudging her with his elbow, Jack said, "Alright, who's ready f'r hot cocoa an' cookies an' a story?"

"Memememememeeee!" Lucy said, bouncing to her feet, grabbing Katherine's hands. "Cocoa an' cookies, Mama!"

"Yeah?" she laughed. "You ready for that?

"Yeah!"

"Then let's go get it!"

Cocoa-making was an interesting ordeal that grew every year with more and more toppings and recipes they had to try.

"Okay, whip cream or marshmallows?" Katherine asked once all the mugs were full.

Corey's eyes went wide. "Whip cream  _an'_ marshmallows!" he exclaimed. 

Lucy whipped her head around, ponytail practically smacking her in the face. "You c'n  _do_ that?"

Exchanging a look with his wife, Jack shrugged. "Ain't us who gotta deal with 'em at bedtime," he said. 

"If we keep leaving sugar-high kids with Davey, he's going to stop watching them," she laughed, but gave Corey a moderate dollop of whip cream and a half-handful of marshmallows.

Jack waved a hand. "Ah, that ain't true. Uncle Davey loves ya kids, right? Even when ya all sugar-high."

"Yeah!" Corey insisted, already with a foam mustache over his lip.

"See?" Jack accepted his coffee from Katherine. "Alright, if ya got your cocoa, go find a seat. It's time f'r the Christmas story—'ay, don't run with those," he reminded them when it looked like Corey and Lucy were about to bolt. 

"Daddy, Daddy, come sit by me!" Lucy said, sitting up on her knees on the couch.

Stopping at the bookshelf to find their battered copy of  _Twas the Night Before Christmas_ , he said, "'m comin', Lucy-Goose."

Jack settled at one end of the couch and Lucy immediately crawled in his lap. Katherine curled up on the other end, Pete on her other side. Corey curled in an impossible ball in the middle, and they sat and listened with rapt attention as Jack read to them.

"Twas the night before Christmas, an' all through th' house, not a creature was stirrin', not even a mouse..."

 

~*~

 

“Alright, Brooklyn, here ya go!” Race placed a bag in front of her.

Brooklyn cocked her head. “Thought we opened presents tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but this one’s a special present,” Spot explained. “Go on, open it.”

She paused a moment, looking at them somewhat uncertainly a moment before ripping into the bag and pulling out the contents. "Pajamas?"

"Yeah, see? They're Christmas pajamas, an' me an' Tony have matchin' ones," Spot said, showing her the matching pairs of pants for him and Race.

Okay, so maybe they were just the pants. Spot just couldn't bring himself to buy the whole matching set, and Race had agreed. But they were still matching, so it counted, right?

Brooklyn's eyes lit up. "Cool! I love them! Look, there's reindeer an' snowflakes! Can I go put 'em on?"

"Yeah! 'Course ya can," Race said, grinning at her. "An' then we was thinkin' 'bout watchin' a Christmas movie, whaddaya say?"

"Oooh like Rudolph? Or, no, uhm." She thought about it a moment. "The train movie!"

"Polar Express?"

"Yeah!"

"Sure, we c'n watch that one," Spot said. "Why don’t’cha go put on you news pjs an' we will?"

Leaping to her feet, Brooklyn grabbed her new pajamas. "Okay!" she said excitedly, running to her room.

“I called Stephanie’s office today,” Spot said quietly as they, too, quickly changed into their new pajama pants.

“And?”

Spot sighed. “She was out, vistin’ family. All week, she’s s’posed to be out.”

Race groaned. “So we can’t get ahold’a her ‘til, what? After the New Year? Can’t imagine she’ll be in ‘til then.”

“Nope.” Race gave him a curious look. “C’mon, ya didn’t think that would stop me, didja? Got her cell phone from her assistant, called her, she’s gonna get our paperwork started after the weekend. Still might take a while f’r it all to go through, but…”

Race's eyes lit up. “But… we’re good? We're gettin' her?"

Spot grinned. "Stephanie said it still might take a few months, but it's in. She's gonna be ours."

"We're gonna be  _dads_ ," Race said softly, disbelieving. 

Tugging him forward by the hem of his shirt, Spot kissed him. "Yeah we are."

 

~*~

 

"Okay, we've got the milk and cookies out, carrots for the reindeer, what else do we need?" Katherine asked.

Lucy gasped. "Santa's key! So he can get inside!"

"That's right, Luce! Do you remember where we left it?"

"In the kitchen!" Corey and Lucy chased each other to the kitchen, where they'd laid out the ornate key on a piece of red ribbon on the table. It was an idea Katherine had found a couple years back and the kids  _loved_ it.

Corey cackled as he held the key over his head and ran back to the door, Lucy looking slightly distraught as she followed him. " _Corey_!" she whined.

"It's okay, Lucy," Jack soothed. "You can hang it on the door, okay?"

" _Fine_ ," she pouted. 

Pete pulled the door opened, revealing Davey with his hand raised to knock. "Uncle Davey!"

"Hey, kiddos!" he said, accepting their tackle-hugs. "What's up?"

"Uncle Davey, we's puttin' Santa's key on the door!" Lucy said, holding up the key she'd somehow managed to snag from Corey.

"Really?" Davey asked. "Well, don't let me stop you. Ya want Santa to get in, right? Get'cha your presents?"

"Yeah!" Tongue poking out her teeth in intense concentration, Lucy carefully looped the ribbon over the doorknob before turning to Katherine. "Mama! I did it!"

"Great job, Lucy!" Katherine said, giving her a thumbs-up before hugging Davey. "Hey, Davey. Thanks for watching them tonight."

He shrugged. "No problem. It's always fun, seein' the kids. Besides, it'll distract me from... well."

Lowering her voice so Jack wouldn't hear, Katherine asked, "Okay, what's happening tomorrow? All you told Jack was you'd be late meeting us at Medda's."

Davey rubbed the back of his neck a little. "Honestly, I'd rather see what happens first before I tell anyone. And I trust you not to give me too hard a time, but I can clearly see Jack eavesdropping, so..."

"I ain't—!" Jack cut himself off before he realized what he was saying. "Alright, smooth move, Jacobs," he admitted begrudgingly. 

Katherine and Davey laughed, and Corey ran up to Davey, tugging on his hand. "Davey, come see the cookies we put out for Santa!"

Davey allowed himself to be dragged into the apartment, Katherine following to say goodbye to the kids, as Jack opened the closet to get his coat. He was shrugging into it when Pete approached him, a little hesitantly. 

“Dad?” he asked. “Can I go to Midnight Mass with you an’ Mom?”

Jack paused with his hands on the lapels of his coat. Lucy, and even Corey still, got fussy and clingy the later it got and couldn't immediately get their attention, so he and Kath had been waiting until they were a little older to take the kids with them to Midnight Mass—maybe another year, they thought.

But Pete was pretty good at keeping up with them and old enough to make it through a long, late service. 

"Ya sure, bud? Rather come wit' us instead'a hangin' out with Uncle Davey?"

"Yeah. Can I?"

Jack shrugged a little. "Yeah, sure. Ya wanna go get outta ya pjs an' you can come with me an' Mom, alright?"

"Thanks Dad!"

 

~*~

 

"Okay, Brooklyn, ya want your goodnight book, or a Christmas story?" Race asked as they tucked Brooklyn into bed.

"I'm not  _sleepy_ , Tony!" she insisted, giggling.

"But if you don't go to sleep, Santa won't be able to bring your presents," he wheedled. 

Brooklyn narrowed her eyes a little. "But how does Santa know that I live  _here_ now?"

"Because..." Race shot Spot a look.

He jumped in. "Because ya wrote him a letter an' put ya new address on it, 'member?"

"Oh, yeah..."

"So which is it, Brooklyn?" Race asked again. "Goodnight book or Christmas story?"

"Uhm..." she thought about it, tapping a finger to her chin. "Christmas story!"

"Perfect," he said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Now, you get cozy under ya covers an' Sean'll read a Christmas story, okay?"

Snuggling down into her pillow, Brooklyn pulled her stuffed bunny close to her chest, ready for Spot to read her a story.

"Alright, looks like we got...  _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_. Ya ready?"

Nodding slowly, Brooklyn was already closing her eyes as Race rubbed her back. 

Spot stumbled through the poem some as Brooklyn's breathing slowly evened out and deepened. 

“An' he brought back the toys! An' the food f'r the feast! An' he—he himself—the Grinch carved the roast beast!" Spot finished, closing the book. Nodding a little towards the little girl, he asked, “She asleep?”

Race looked down at her. "Maybe? I'll stay a little longer, make sure she's out. Wanna start out there?"

"Yeah, okay." Standing, Spot bent to kiss him quickly before going into the living room.

 

~*~

 

"Ya wanna know the best part'a knowin' the Santa secret?" Jack asked Pete after they said goodbye to Davey.

Pete yawned. "What?"

"Ya get to  _be_ Santa." Jack wiggled his eyebrows, handing Pete one of Santa's cookies, taking a bite of the one in his hand.

Eyes going wide, Pete said, "Cool!"

They finished the cookies as Katherine came back into the living room from checking on the two youngest. "You didn't leave me any cookies?" she asked, appalled.

"No, 'course we did, babe," Jack said, holding up the plate. "We left ya this one."

"Oh sure, the 'one bite' cookie," she said, rolling her eyes and picking up the cookie. " _That_ counts."

Brushing off his hands, Jack stood and said, "I was thinkin' Pete here could help be Santa this year, whaddaya say, Ace?"

Katherine squeezed Pete's shoulder a little. "I think that's a great idea. Want to help us with the footprints?"

"Yeah!"

Starting at the front door, Pete stood so Jack and Katherine could sprinkle fake snow around his shoes before moving into the living room, near the tree, leaving footprints across the floor. Then they laid out the five stockings at the base of the tree.

"What's next?" Pete asked, looking more awake than he had when they'd come home.

"Now," Katherine said. "You go to bed, so Dad and I can put out the presents. Knowing the secret doesn't mean you get an early peek at the presents."

He scrunched up his nose, looking like he wanted to argue, but relented. "Okay... G'night, Mom. Night, Dad," he said, hugging them.

"Night, Pete," Katherine said, kissing the top of his head.

"Whaddaya say, Pete?" Jack asked as he let go. "Pretty okay Christmas?"

Pete nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm glad I didn't boycott Christmas. But I do have questions for Easter," he added, narrowing his eyes slightly before turning and going back to his room.

"That's definitely your kid," Jack said, looking at Katherine.

 

~*~

 

"Where didja even find these?" Spot asked holding up the pair of ballet slippers. "She mentioned dancin' two days ago."

Race shrugged. "I know a guy." His husband gave him a look. "Okay, so that guy is Specs. He has weirdly intricate knowledge on dance shoes an' he told me where to find them."

Snorting, Spot tucked them into a box, sliding it to Race to wrap. Stretching, he asked, "How many more'a these we got?"

Yawning a little, Race said, "I think just the dance bag from Santa. An' we don't gotta wrap it. Or do we? Does Santa wrap presents?"

"Hell if I know," Spot said, shrugging. "Just, I dunno, put a tag on it? 'From Santa', or some shit?"

"Sounds good." Tying a tag around the strap of the dance bag, Race scribbled a  _To: Brooklyn, From: Santa. Merry Christmas!_  before sliding it under the tree. It was a pink, sequined bag, stuffed with a little leotard, tutu, a wrap sweater, tights, and about a thousand different hair accessories, along with a ballerina doll Race had thought was too perfect to pass up, sitting on top of the bag. "That's everythin'."

Spot let out a loud breath. "Didn't know this Santa shit was so much."

"Yeah, but it's fun, right? An' we get to eat cookies," Race said, cramming another Chips Ahoy in his mouth.

"You's disgustin'," Spot said drily. 

Rolling his eyes, Race finished the milk and, clearing his throat, said, "Admit it, you had fun doin' this."

Spot looked down at Race, smiling fondly. "Yeah, alright. It's— _kinda_ —fun. An' not bad f'r our first year."

"We'll be betta' next year," Race said definitively. "S'what Kath said. Gets easier more we do it."

"Holy shit, we're gonna be doin' this in a year," Spot said softly. "An' the year afta' that, an' afta' that..."

Race reached over, taking Spot's hand and squeezing it. "S'gonna be great."

Leaning down, cupping his face with a calloused hand, Spot kissed Race gently. "Damn right it will be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one night left to go!!! :O
> 
> pretty sure we're past the phase where I have to put this disclaimer, but _How the Grinch Stole Christmas!_ and _The Polar Express_ belong to Dr. Seuss and Chris Van Allsburg respectively ;)
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!!!
> 
> xx


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas has come to New York and I wrap a fat shiny bow on this story.

That morning, Christmas Day dawned bright and cold and...

"SEAN, TONY! HE  _CAME_ , SANTA CAME!"

"MAMA! DADDY! LOOK WHAT SANTA BROUGHT!

"C'MON DAD, GET UP!"

...a little  _too_ early.

 

~*~

 

"Whaddaya think, Brooklyn?" Spot asked, once they'd changed to go to Medda's. They were waiting for Jack and Kath and the kids to do their little present exchange before they all went over together. "Santa do alright?" She'd  _flipped_ at the dance bag, begged Race to do her hair "like a ballerina" and hadn't let go of the ballerina doll all morning.

"Yup!" she chirped. "He got me 'zactly what I wanted!"

"You asked f'r dance stuff?" he asked in disbelief. Surely they hadn't been  _that_ lucky.

Brooklyn shook her head. "Nope! I told him I wanted ta stay so I could spend Christmas with you an' Tony! An' I did!"

Spot was so stunned he almost didn't hear the key in the lock. Brooklyn, however, unaware of his inner conflict, turned on her heel and ran to the door, crying, "They're here!"

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he managed to pull himself together as Race passed him.

Of course, he still saw through him. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Spot nodded, waving a hand. "Later."

The door opened, revealing the Kellys on the other side.

"Lucy! Come see what Santa brought me!" Brooklyn grabbed Lucy's hand, dragging her into the apartment.

"Look what he brought  _me_!" Lucy said, stopping them and showing off her new Instax camera. "So I can take pictures'a everythin'!"

"Cool!"

"C'mon," Spot said gruffly, waving them in. "We got presents f'r ya kids. An' coffee f'r the adults."

" _Good_ , mine still ain't kicked in yet," Jack muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"And we've had about three cups each," Katherine added.

They sat in the living room, letting the kids open their presents— _Pete the Cat_ books for Brooklyn, camera film for Lucy, hockey gloves for Pete, and a big sketchpad for Corey—while the adults chatted and managed to finish a pot of coffee between them.

When the last present had been opened, and the kids had had a chance to admire them and show them off to each other, Katherine said, "We should probably head up to Medda's, so we're not late."

"Ain't no traffic," Spot pointed out. "No one's travelin' today—"

"—Well, I still don't want to be  _late_ , Sean—"

"Wait, there's one more!" Pete sinterrupted them, jumping up and going to his backpack by the door, where he'd stashed his present. Bringing it back to the living room, he handed it to Brooklyn. "This's from me," he said, handing her a package sloppily wrapped in—

"Newspaper?" Katherine asked Jack. "You let him wrap her present in newspapers?"

Jack shrugged. "It's the comics, they's still colorful. An' we were outta wrapping paper."

"How did I miss that?"

"It's fine, she don't care—"

"Whoa!" Brooklyn said, eyes wide, holding the small scrapbook Pete had put together in the last week with the help of Jack and Katherine. She flipped through the pages, pictures of the last month—baking cookies, sledding, even the Macy's snow globe picture. 

"So you can remember your Christmas with us," Pete explained.

"Cool!" Brooklyn jumped up to show Spot and Race. "Look, Sean, Tony! It's so pretty!"

Race looked impressed. "It is! Ya did a great job, Pete."

"Whaddya say to him, Brooklyn?" Spot reminded gently, flipping through the book as well.

She turned to give him a toothy smile. "Thanks, Pete!"

Pete looked a little uncomfortable with the attention, tips of his ears turning bright red. "You're welcome," he muttered.

Katherine reached over to squeeze his shoulder. "Great idea, bud."

 

~*~

 

Albert walked down the street, trying to make sense of his swirling thoughts. 

He was in his old neighborhood, at his dad's, with his brothers and sister-in-law and niece and nephew, supposed to be acting jolly and shit, but he was failing miserably.

" _I'm pregnant."_

_Pregnant._

Shit. 

Raking a hand through his hair, Albert kicked a rock harder than necessary, startling a pigeon. "What 'm I s'posed to do?" he asked aloud. 

The pigeon just looked at him.

Part of him managed to understand that, really, it wasn't about him. His... kid, fetus, DNA?... or whatever, but it wasn't him who had to deal with, well. Everything else. He didn't even know if  _Marissa_ was going to be dealing with everything else. After she'd dropped the bomb on him, they'd sat in mostly silence for about ten minutes before he'd finally stammered out a question.

_"Wh—ya sure?'_

_"Yeah."_

_"Wh—What're ya gonna do 'bout... it?"_

_"I don't know yet."_

She'd said she'd call him when she had a chance to think about it some more, though Al wouldn't be surprised if he never heard from her again. They weren't a couple by any definition, and she didn't owe him anything.

Albert had reached the end of the street, where there was an intersection. "Huh. Actual crossroad," he said drily, annoyed at the irony. 

Maybe he needed a sounding board—if nothing else, just someone from an outside perspective to maybe give him an idea.

 

~*~

 

_Albert: remember that advice shit i gave u?_

_Albert: i need some of it_

Davey frowned down at his phone. They'd already acknowledged that he didn't often go to Albert for advice, but it was even stranger for the reverse to happen.

_Davey: Yeah, sure. Go ahead._

The typing bubble showed up and disappeared two, three, four times before Al simply said

_Albert: nvm. not important_

_Davey: Are you sure?_

_Albert: yeah, it's fine_

Davey started to reply again when there was a rustling and, a moment later, Chaya came around the corner. 

"Sorry," she said a little sheepishly. "I'm half-packed to go see my family tomorrow. I couldn't find my bag."

Chuckling, he said, "It's fine. Are you sure It’s not too last minute?"

"Oh, it's definitely a bit last minute," Chaya said, giving him a half-smile. "You asked me to this movie less than forty-eight hours ago. But it's also about time, too," she added, half-smile stretching across her face in a soft grin.

Davey rubbed the back of his neck a bit, his turn to be sheepish. "Yeah, that's about what Jack said."

"Well." Chaya slipped her hand through his. "Maybe we don't waste any more time, hm?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and... that's all she wrote. ;)
> 
> thank you thank you thank you all for sticking with me through the last 25 days. I might've gotten more ambitious than I could actually fully handle with finals and the holidays, but I think it wrapped up nicely?? 
> 
> To everyone who celebrates, a very Merry Christmas to you and yours, and a happy Tuesday to those who don't. I wish you all a warm and happy day full of love.
> 
> xx


End file.
